Rhode Island
Senior Year
Candy’s shoulders rose and fell rhythmically as I tucked my comforter around her and Wilma, whom she’d fallen asleep clutching the night before. She’d come home with me after Violet’s party, where I’d left Crowley to babysit Ryan.
Lucky for Matt, Ryan wasn’t a puker when he drank. But Candy? Yeah. I wound up holding her hair somewhere around two in the morning.
Before I could tiptoe away from the bed, one of her eyes cracked open. “I’ve made fun of this cat eleventy billion times and you never told me she was the product of some torrid love affair you had before I knew you.”
Crap. After she’d caught me spying on Violet and David, I’d spent a good part of the night dodging questions about him. Considering what she’d seen, I’d been hoping she’d wake up this morning with a serious case of alcohol amnesia. My wish had obviously not been granted.
“It wasn’t a torrid love affair.” I sighed.
She sat up, dragging Wilma by the arm. Her hair looked like brown cobwebs, and remnants of midnight-kohl mascara rimmed her eyes. “You hid his picture in your goddamn closet. Which means it was torrid. So spill it, sister, because I saw everything last night and I want the real story.”
I plunked down next to her. “We were friends, Can. I know no one believes it thanks to my stupid sister, but we were.” I reached for the photo on my dresser, still sitting where Candy had left it the night before. “Besides, I didn’t want that from him.”
“Why?” Candy blurted, attempting to get her fingers through her tangled mane. “Did he smell bad? You know I love you, Kelse, but short of some serious noxious fumes, I can’t imagine why anyone would not want ‘that’ ”—she snatched the picture from my hands and thrust it in my face—“from that.”
I plucked the photo from her fingers and placed it facedown on the bed. “Believe me, plenty of girls wanted it. I guarantee he didn’t spend this past year crying into his pillow over me.”
Candy raised an eyebrow. “Do you wish he had?”
“No.”
My stomach turned a little as I remembered my and David’s conversation in English class earlier that week, but I pushed the memory away. I wasn’t a mind reader, and if he’d wanted me to know about his father, he could have called, or even e-mailed. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.
“Oh, come on. It’s always nice to know someone misses you.”
I turned the picture over and looked at it again. “I have Ryan, remember?”
“Then why are you eye-banging that picture?”
“I’m not!” I nearly bent the picture in half in my rush to flip it back over and push it away from me.
“You so are!” Candy’s eyes widened. “Shut. Up. You’ve seen him naked, haven’t you?”
“No! Oh my God, nothing ever—”
“Spill it!” Wilma’s soft, furry body collided with the side of my head. “Spill it, before I beat it out of you with your four-legged love child!”
I shrieked and nearly caught a mouthful of Wilma’s skirt with the next blow. “All right!” I scurried away from her on my hands and knees. “It was one kiss! One, and that’s all!”
Candy sat back and gaped at me. “I take it Smurf man doesn’t know about this?”
“No. And I know I should probably tell him, but it seriously happened once, and you saw how paranoid he got on the first day of school.”
Candy rolled her eyes and pretended to gag. “He’s been extra attentive since a certain someone came to town, hasn’t he? Your morning make-out sessions have been more barfworthy than usual.” She propped Wilma haphazardly against my pillow and pointed a finger in her face. “I don’t care who you are, you will never rock a cheerleading uniform like I do.” Then she turned to me. “Do you still want to go to Arizona? You never said anything about putting it on the ‘to-tour’ list, and as your future roommate, I think this is something I should know.”
I shook my head, reaching out to smooth a dog-eared corner of the picture. “It was a phase.” I’d realized a while ago that my fixation on going away to college had less to do with the schools and more to do with the actual going away.
And I’d already done that.
I waited until Candy went home before I called Ryan. “Babe,” he said when he picked up the phone.
“Hey. How’re you feeling today?”
“I’m fine. Listen, is your sister sleeping at home tonight? Because I know she doesn’t like to be home alone, but I really want to see you. I miss you.”
We’d seen each other every day that week, but somehow I missed him too. All the, ahem, intrusions in my life lately had made me feel like I’d spent the past week in a drunken stupor, watching my life instead of living it.
“Oh. So you mean it’s been a while since you got laid?” I teased. To my surprise, Ryan sounded annoyed.
“No—I—geez, Kelse, I’m trying to tell you I want to spend time with you. Do you have to be such a pain in the ass?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I miss you too, Ry. I talked to Miranda this morning and you’re in luck. She wants to stay at Carrie’s again. What did you have in mind?”
I swear I heard the dimple in his cheek reappear as he answered, “I’ll pick you up at quarter to seven.”
And did he ever. With flowers.
When I first started at Clayton, he’d told me he liked me by way of flowers. Orange and black carnations to be exact, sold by the cheerleading squad as a Halloween fund-raiser. He and I were in the same math class, and we’d chatted every now and then, but I figured he flirted with all the girls. Candy kept telling me he thought I was hot, but I found it hard to believe. I might’ve looked different, I might’ve acted more confident, and hell, I might’ve even felt more confident. But I was still afraid I wore it like a super-obvious disguise, one that people would see right through if they looked hard enough.
Which probably explained why I didn’t hesitate to accept the double shot of vodka Ryan offered me the first time I went to a party with Candy, even though I’d never attempted to chug anything larger than a dose of liquid Tylenol. He’d been so cute about it—eyeing the fitted Yankees tee that, until that night, had sat in a drawer with the tags on because I hated the way it clung like a second skin. “You know,” he said, holding out the glass, “I’m a Boston fan, and I’m still gonna share this, if you want it. That’s kind of a big deal.”
He flashed a dimpled smile and I ignored my stampeding heart, reminding myself, as I accepted the shot, that my new life meant giving myself permission to do stupid things.
“Duly noted.” I closed my eyes, raised the glass to my lips, and opened my throat.
And immediately went into a coughing fit that resembled a seizure.
I felt so ridiculous that I avoided Ryan the rest of the night, certain I’d obliterated any interest he might’ve had in me—until the day he walked into class with two flowers, set them down in front of me, and watched my face turn every conceivable shade of red as the class hooted and hollered all around us.
Tonight he’d upgraded the carnations to a drop-dead gorgeous bouquet of red roses.
“Ryan!” I gasped as I opened the door. “What’s all this for?”
He bent to kiss me. “Because I love you.”
For a second I panicked. I wondered if he’d somehow seen me spying on David and Violet and decided damage control was in order, but then dismissed that idea as ridiculous. If he’d seen my reaction, he’d be birthing a giant green cow, not buying me flowers. I threw my arms around him, holding the flowers out so I wouldn’t crush them, and nipped at his neck.
“You look beautiful tonight.”
I stepped back and smoothed the strapless purple sundress I wore. I’d had serious doubts about my outfit and my makeup after the comments David made at Violet’s party, but seeing the way Ryan looked at me gave my self-confidence a much-needed boost.
Screw David. He was nothing but a jealous ass wipe.
After I put the flowers in water, Ryan and I headed out to his car. I felt more like myself with every passing second. He refused to tell me where we were going, so we spent most of the car ride laughing at recaps of the stupid, drunken things our friends had done at Violet’s the night before.
I didn’t tell him what I’d seen in the pool. Any minute now I’d be able to think about it without tasting bile, anyway.
By the time we parked the car on Thames Street, the sea air had already started to work its magic and I felt myself relax. The temperature was much cooler than the previous night, and I pulled my sweater tighter as Ryan hugged me to his side and the familiar ocean breeze teased us with the scents of garlic roasting and fish frying and hamburgers grilling. The last of the summer tourists milled through the streets, getting their final fills of the sights and sounds that were home to me now.
I squealed with delight when Ryan pulled me toward the Mooring. “I know it’s your favorite,” he said with a smile. “I made a reservation.”
And he’d even asked for a table near the fireplace, the best spot.
“Ryan, we still have almost two months until our anniversary. What’s this all about?” I asked again.
He reached across the table for my hand. “I feel like you’ve been kinda distracted lately. I wanted to take your mind off things, spend some time alone.”
I looked down at my lap. “I guess I have been a little distracted. And it’s not just because . . .” I trailed off, afraid David’s name might invoke the black cloud that seemed to hover between Ryan and me whenever he came up. “It’s other things too. My dad’s book has been getting so much attention, and he’s never home anymore because he’s either working or at signings and promos. When he does come home, he’s holed up in his office. Mom gets mopey when he’s gone too long, so she keeps busy by hounding me about college applications, and Miranda’s just in my face all the time, period.”
Ryan looked down at our hands as his thumb brushed over my knuckles, his brow furrowed. It was the same pensive look that came over him any time the subject of college came up.
“Have you thought any more about where you want to go?” I asked gently.
Ryan sighed and sat back in his chair. “You know I need to go wherever my scholarship money stretches the furthest. My grades aren’t good enough to get in on academics, and my parents can go on a cruise every other month, but they won’t pay for the schools I want without at least a partial ride.” He leaned forward again and stabbed his straw through the lemon in his soda. “Your friend could really screw this up for me.”
“Who? David?”
“He’s good, Kelse. Really good. And on top of it, Coach and his dad are, like, college buddies or something. There’s no way he’s not making the team, and he’ll definitely be starting. Which means everyone will be watching him when they should be watching me. Which means he’ll be eligible for all the scholarships I would’ve had in the bag if he’d stayed the fuck away from here.” He ran his hand through his hair and grumbled, “Sorry for the f-bomb.”
Oh, wow.
No wonder he’d been so on edge around David. Not only did he see my past with him as a threat to our relationship, he saw David’s presence as a threat to his whole future.
This could get ugly.
“Ry, David’s a good ballplayer, but so are you. And you’re a senior. . . . Haven’t those decisions been made already?”
Ryan’s lips twisted. “Clayton doesn’t announce their scholarships until the postseason banquet. And I wasn’t interested in any of the universities that offered early signing. I’m sort of holding out to see what else happens.”
“Maybe David’s already picked his school and you’re freaking out for nothing. Besides, you’ve played at Clayton for three years, and if anyone deserves one of the school’s scholarships, it’s you. They’re not going to screw you over if they know what’s right.”
Ryan frowned. “It’s not what you know. It’s who you know.”
I leaned across the table and took his hand again. “I don’t want to talk about this particular ‘who’ anymore, okay? No more distractions tonight, for either of us. I want to enjoy the amazing night my boyfriend planned for me. All right?”
Ryan squeezed my hand and smiled, his beyond-adorable dimple coming out to play. My heart expanded about three sizes, and I pushed thoughts of David to the back of my mind.
“All right, babe. I love you.”
“I love you, too. And I’m sorry I’ve been such a mope lately. I’m over it, I promise.”
I meant it. Or I wanted to. As Ryan and I walked hand in hand toward the marina after dinner, the sound of live music floating through the salty air, I’d almost forgotten why I’d been such a drudge all week. I might have succeeded in forgetting completely if I hadn’t spotted a pretty blond girl walking with her tall, dark-haired boyfriend. They were laughing and talking and one of her hands curled around the crook of his arm. In the other a bag from the taffy store swung in rhythm with her steps.
I swallowed down the sourness that rose in my throat as Ryan pulled aside into a little patch of concrete that jutted out between two restaurants, where we could lean against the fence and look out at the silhouettes of the docked boats. He put his arm around me and I settled against his shoulder.
He leaned in and kissed me, the soft warmth of his lips sending a thrill through me from head to toe. It was like having some of the poison from my toxic week drained out of my body.
I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him with everything I had, determined to force the rest of the demons out. By the time we pulled apart, both ready to escape to my mercifully empty house, I decided I’d never let David, or anyone else, get under my skin again.
Ryan deserved so much better than that, and I was going to give it to him.