Chapter Twenty
Tyler
I’ve been contemplating calling her since I woke up. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Her voice, though, is something I crave to hear. Almost as much as I crave getting little text messages from her. Which is really screwed up because face-to-face we fight like cats and dogs. Whatever this is will never work.
Screw it. I hit call and listen to it ring.
“Hello?”.
“Hey. I wasn’t sure you’d answer. What are you doing right now?”
“Um … well … I’ve gotta start cleaning. Today is the day we scrub down the house. Then I’m heading to the mall.”
“Cool.” Really, though, I feel sweaty, and sick. Is she going to the mall to pick up guys? Shop? See a movie? We’re not dating. Hell, she doesn’t know I’m R yet, because if she did, I’m pretty sure she’d slap me or stop talking to me or both.
“Yeah. Shoot, my mom is calling me. Can I talk to you a little later? Say around four?”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” She deeply sighs and I chuckle. “Kidding. I’ll answer. Have fun cleaning.”
“Yeah, I’m not a fan of cleaning bathrooms.”
“I don’t think anyone is, babe.”
“Um … Okay. Bye.”
Crap, why did I call her babe? “Bye,” I say causally so it doesn’t draw the attention back to the word I probably shouldn’t have said just yet. The call ends and instead of feeling happy I feel miserable. I look around my room and groan. I definitely need to get ready.
As I’m getting dressed my mom calls me. “Tyler?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you almost ready?”
“Just buttoning and tucking.” My mom hates when I say this. She says it reminds her of dirty romance novels. I have no idea what that is supposed to mean but ever since she admitted that I make extra certain to say it. Because for one, this gets back at mom and all her embarrassing Tyler-in-diaper stories she tells everyone at the club. And two, it’s funny.
I hear her grumble. “Tyler, please don’t say that.”
I open my door and smile at her. “We ready to roll?”
She looks annoyed about something but she doesn’t say what. She goes down the stairs and I follow. She stops in the kitchen. “Where the hell did he take off to?”
“Dad’s missing?” I ask.
My mom scrunches up her face. “Yes. I tell him a certain time and the man always disappears. You know what? I’m not waiting this time. Let’s go. The car is all packed up. Could you drive though, hon? I had a little nip in my coffee this morning.”
Of course she has. She would have to, being married to my dad, who’s probably hiding in his office working on another case. He does this kind of shit all the time. There’s always a high-end client who really needs him. Whatever. She continues to stay married to the asshole.
She’s not exactly a saint either. She can’t go an hour in the morning without alcohol. By noon she’s three sheets to the wind. God forbid we have guests over. When my mom’s drunk she likes to air out all our dirty laundry to anyone who’ll listen. This is another reason my dad doesn’t attend the events she hosts.
I take the keys from my mom and slide into the Lexis LX. Once mom is buckled in I pull us out of the garage and down the drive. As we’re heading to the country club my mom complains, “He knew how important this was. I suppose getting his clients what they need is way more important though.”
Jesus. Here we go. “Tyler, when you get married, promise me you won’t become a prick. Promise me when you make a vow to a person you’ll keep it. Promise me when you say you’ll be there, you will actually be there and not disappear on your wife!”
“Yeah, mom.” Just stop talking about this.
“And he wonders why I’m not jumping into bed with him.”
“Mom, TMI.” She needs to stop talking about her and my dad’s sex life before I projectile vomit all over the steering wheel.
“Sorry. I’m sorry. You’re completely right. I shouldn’t be talking about any of this with you. I don’t want you to think badly of your father.”
It’s a little too late for that. I don’t tell her this though.
I pull up the Windemfield Country Club Estates and a valet comes rushing out. He’s dressed in club colors, maroon and black with a gold crest on his left pocket. My mom smiles as she practically stumbles into him.
I roll my eyes. This really couldn’t get any more humiliating.
“Hello, Mrs. Richardson,” he says to my mom in an overly cheerful voice.
My mom pats his cheek. “You’re cute. If only I were twenty years younger.”
I take it back. It just got more humiliating.
“Sorry, man.” I hand off my mom’s keys and walk toward the restrooms.
After I use the bathroom, I make extra sure to avoid my mom. This is the shit about my life no one knows about. I can’t trust anyone not to talk about it. Well, Jared would be the only person. I learned a long time ago how people love to gossip about the rich, especially when it comes to my family. When I was in first grade I told one person during morning period I wanted to kiss a certain girl. By lunchtime everyone knew. They all giggled at me except for the girl. That girl was Layla Valentine. She told me never to speak to her again. Of course, I didn’t listen. I did everything I could to get her attention but ended up making her cry. Yes, she actually punched me in the face at recess.
Austin comes toward me. He’s decked out in some suit pants and a nice dress shirt, but his coat and tie are missing. “Hey, man. I was wondering when you’d show.”
“Here I am.”
“Your mom said you were using the bathroom.”
I nod. “Is it boring as hell in there?”
He glances back at the ballroom. “Yeah. The girls here are from Blackhawk and Huntersville. Some are decent looking but mostly they look like future gold-diggers.”
“Huntersville?”
He nods. “Yeah. A few chicks are from there. Their moms are friends with someone from here. Good causes, yadda yadda. I started zoning out.”
Hmmm. This is my chance to prove my suspicion that Faye is in fact Layla. “Right. Which ones were they?” I ask.
“Why are you interested in girls from Huntersville?”
“Cause I am. Point them out.”
We walk into the ballroom and he gestures to a table in the far back corner. I walk over and plop down in the empty chair at their table. Austin joins me, probably because there are no other dudes at this thing, and he wants to know what’s going on with me.
“Hello again,” one of the blonds say to Austin.
He smiles. “Hey. This is my buddy Tyler. His mom is the one organizing this event.”
“Oh,” the blond says. “That’s so wonderful. You know, it’s sad when children don’t own shoes.”
“Or purses,” the redhead next to her says. Three girls nod together.
“Uh, right. So, you ladies go to Huntersville, right?” I ask.
They nod again. The black-haired girl says, “Yes. Do you go to Riverside?”
“Yeah. Um, do you girls know a cheerleader named Faye?”
“Faye? Nope. I don’t think there’s anyone at our school with that name. Did you mean Faith? We have a girl on our cheer squad named Faith.”
Faith?
“Um … did she date an Adam DiAngelo?”
“No. We don’t have anyone by that name at our school either,” the blond giggles.
Bingo. I get why Layla lied about her identity, so I’m not mad. It’s just crazy that out of all the numbers in the world to send a text to, she got mine. How do I continue to go about this without her figuring out who I am?
When I move away from the table and head toward the one I’m supposed to be sitting at, Austin slumps down next to me and starts in. “All right what was that?”
“Nothing.”
“I call horseshit! It’s about the girl you’ve been texting, huh?”
“What?” I glare at him. How does he know about this? I certainly never told him.
He rolls his eyes. “I saw some of the messages you were sending each other when we were heading to lunch Friday.” I scowl at him and he shrugs it off. “So, are you going to tell me what’s up?” he asks.
“Nothing.”
“Well, obviously you caught her in some lies. Where did you meet her?”
I’m not about to tell him that Faye is some figment person Layla Valentine made up. He already spreads enough rumors as it is. Last thing I need is for Layla to find out I’m R before I can convince her that we could be great together. Maybe it’s best I lay off texting her so much.