Dating Trouble (Grover Beach Team Book 5) (3 page)

Ethan had watched me, fascinated, when I had my laughing fit, but now he chuckled, and the sound of it was quite delightful. “You don’t have to. It’s sweet that you couldn’t wait to tell your friends my name.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, right. Like that was the only thing on my mind since you introduced yourself.”
Yeah, right. Like that wasn’t the truth.
A shrug rolled off my shoulders, and suddenly I felt I could be honest with him. “As for joining the team—only temporarily, of course—you’re actually a passable player from what I saw. Your long passes are excellent. I guess Hunter could use you. And yes…I like your music.” Now I stuck out my tongue at him.

Man, I needed to stop before I talked myself into a frenzy which, hands down, happened more often than not, especially when I started to feel comfortable with someone. I couldn’t tell why exactly he made me feel so at ease, but I’d obviously slipped past the point of no return already. “You have a lot of good stuff on your playlist. And it was your fault anyway; you didn’t turn off the music when you left.” Duh!

A little surprised, either over my swell of words or about my taste in music, he tilted his head. “You like Aerosmith?”

“Not so much, but I kinda inhale Kings of Leon day and night. Sadly, there’s not enough Volbeat on your iPod. That’s my second favorite band in the world.”

Ethan turned to me on the bench, putting one leg on the other side to straddle it. An excited gleam appeared in his eyes. One that I knew all too well from myself, when I talked about books or music. “Yeah, they’re awesome,” he gushed. “I’ve only just discovered them, and I’m going to get all the CDs they have. Call me weird, but when I really like a band, I just don’t want to download their music. I’m like a—”

“Hoarder? That’s totally what I do.”

“Yeah, something like that. Only, the music shop in town isn’t very well stocked. I’ll have to order a few things online.”

“I have all their CDs, and DVDs. Their best one is
Live from beyond Hell
. You can borrow it if you want.” When he nodded, I made a mental note to find it tonight and bring the CD to school tomorrow. “Guess what! I even got them to sign my hoodie after a concert last winter.”

“You’re kidding me! You’ve met them? How cool is that?”

“Veeeeery.” I pulled my backpack down from my shoulders and fished for my phone before thumbing euphorically through the thousand pictures on it. When I found the right one, I held the phone out to him so he could look at the screen. My proud grin reached from Utah to Ohio. The picture showed me with the singer from Volbeat, his arm casually draped over my shoulders, both of us smirking at each other rather than into the camera.

“Holy cow! That’s awesome!”

“Yeah. And he smelled so terrible, all sweaty and worked up after the show—” I laughed. “But, for the life of me, I couldn’t bring myself to shower that night.”

Ethan nailed me with a calm stare. “I totally understand. I wouldn’t have washed Michael Poulsen’s DNA off either, if it was pasted on me.”

Oh boy, could it be that Charlie Brown and I spoke the same language? I’d known him for what, five minutes? And I already felt like I’d met my soul mate. We raved endlessly about the bands we loved, those with a natural talent for singing, and ranted about others who apparently thought they needed to strip naked in a video to draw attention.

It struck me dumb how much Ethan and I were in tune. Okay no, it didn’t—nothing ever rendered me speechless, but it was amazing. None of my friends felt so strongly about my taste in music, so this boy in front of me was definitely a keeper.

When my phone went off after some time, we were so deep in conversation that I didn’t answer until the fifth or sixth ring. Absently, I said, “Yeah?”

“Susan? Where are you?”

My mother’s impatient voice dragged my attention away from Ethan’s shiny blue eyes. “Still at the soccer field,” I answered warily. “Why?”

“It’s after seven. Your great aunt Muriel is here. We’ve been waiting for you to start dinner for over half an hour.”

I brought the phone down quickly and glanced at the display to check the time. She was right—it was five past seven. Crap! Being with Ethan, I’d totally forgotten my grandfather’s sixty-eighth birthday. His slightly senile, hard-of-hearing sister Muriel had come from Pasadena to celebrate with us tonight. I was supposed to help Mom cook dinner. Just where had the time gone? We couldn’t possibly have been talking for three hours. My face felt like the color just vanished from my cheeks. “Sorry, Mom. I got caught up,” I said into the phone and promised to be home in a few minutes.

“You have to go?” Ethan asked after I hung up.

“Yes. Family celebration.” Grimacing, I packed my stuff and stood up. “I can’t believe I forgot about that.”

Ethan rose with me. “It’s crazy. I wouldn’t have thought we were talking for more than twenty minutes.” He walked with me to the exit of the field, matching my slightly slower than normal pace. As we reached the parking lot, he stopped by a blue Ford Mustang and unlocked the doors with the punch of a button on his key ring. Looking back and forth between the car and me, he asked, “Need a ride home?”

I shook my head. “It’s not far. Only five minutes.”

He said, “Okay,” but it sounded like:
What a shame
. And it was exactly how I felt about having to go home now. I hadn’t enjoyed anything as much as talking to him in a long time. In fact, my mouth and throat had gone so dry from talking that I constantly had to swallow now to keep my voice smooth.

We looked at each other for an extended moment as if neither of us wanted to say goodbye first. When I decided I would be the one, Ethan beat me there, but what he said was, “Um, that was nice. Maybe we should do it again. What do you think? Tomorrow after school? We could go get a soda together somewhere.”

I ran a hand through my hair and played with the ends that hung in front of my chest. “What…you mean like—”

“A date?” He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Three o’clock at Charlie’s Café?”

A very funny feeling spread in my stomach. One that was usually reserved for when I was watching a movie with Zac Efron in it. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Ethan repeated with a smile, already opening the door of his car.

I waved at him instead of saying goodbye and turned around, grinning like a lunatic. But before I could walk away, he shouted after me, “Hey, wait.” As I pivoted once more, he asked, “What should I tell Hunter about me playing on the team?”

I laughed and again found a strand of my hair to twirl around my finger. “Well, I said yes to the date, didn’t I?” And with that I hurried home, hoping to get a piece of Granddad’s birthday cake before Aunt Muriel ate it all.

MONDAY NIGHT WAS a fight night in my house. It started right after dinner when Gramps had blown out the thousand candles on his birthday cake and Dad cut it, then handed him a piece.

“Richard, you know my father shouldn’t be eating sweets,” my mom scolded him through gritted teeth. “Remember his diabetes, for goodness’ sake.”

“Come on, Sally,” Dad wheedled. “It’s his birthday. You didn’t make this cake to have the birthday boy watch the rest of us eat it.”

After that conversation starter, it was clear to me that I’d be sleeping with a pillow over my head tonight—like so many times before. Granddad cut me a wary look from across the table just before I got up and went to the fridge to get a glass of milk. No idea why I did that. I didn’t even like cold milk. But each time my mom and dad got in an argument, I felt the need to dash out of the room and find something else to do.

I gulped down some milk right from the carton, then went to the sink and washed away the cow-ish taste in my mouth with a glass of water.

“…it will take a ton of insulin until he’s back at his normal sugar level! Why can’t you be reasonable for once in your…”

My mom’s angry shouts drifting from the dining room were drowned out by Grandpa’s deep rumble behind me. “Have a glass for an old man, too?”

With a smile that I didn’t have to force as much as expected, I turned around and found him sitting at the small, square table in the middle of the yellow room, his wrinkled hands folded in front of a huge piece of cake. I filled a glass for him, then another, as my great aunt Muriel joined us with a confused expression on her face.

“Are they always like that?” she asked, pointing a finger over her shoulder.

A sigh escaped me. “Most of the time.”

Muriel pulled out a metal folding chair next to my granddad and sat down. Her hair wasn’t as white as his yet, but otherwise they couldn’t deny being siblings. Same big nose, the thin lips, and a healthy rosy color to their cheeks. I must have gotten my green eyes from my mother’s bloodline, too. Fetching three forks, I joined them, and we ate the cake to the background music of my parents having their second go at each other this week—and it was only Monday.

*

Mom and Dad were decent enough to stop fighting for a moment when Gramps and Muriel said good night and thanked them for the invitation to dinner. My grandfather’s house was next to ours. When my folks’ fights escalated at night, I used to walk over and knock on his door—no matter what time—dressed in my PJs and armed with my alarm clock. Gramps always let me sleep on the couch. Tonight, however, due to Muriel’s visit, I had to suffer through an argument that found its climax at twenty minutes past midnight with banging doors and my mother shouting, “What is wrong with you? Do you want to wake Susan?”

Thanks, Mom.
Only took them four hours of nonstop shouting at each other to remember they actually had a daughter. I pressed the pillow harder over my ears and tried counting sheep to escape the mad reality downstairs. It didn’t work, and soon the sheep turned into soccer balls being kicked over a fence by Ethan. I watched him do that for some time and concentrated on the warm feeling that spread in my stomach. It was the thought of seeing him again that had my insides in a funky twist.

Oh boy, I was so going to put on nail polish tomorrow. Simone did it all the time, and she was the most beautiful girl I knew. I wanted to look pretty for Ethan. Remembering how he’d smirked and called me a liar today released a shot of adrenaline inside me. Getting really excited, I flashed a smile in the dark. Three p.m. couldn’t come fast enough.

Sleep must have claimed me, because when the alarm went off next to my face, I jerked upright to bright morning light in my room. Rushing to the bathroom, I showered, put on some tropical-smelling body lotion, combed and tied my wavy, light brown hair in a high ponytail, and fished for the untouched set of ten little bottles of nail polish in the cabinet beneath the sink. It was a giveaway prize from one of my favorite authors some time ago. Each color of the spectrum was in that box, from yellow to deep purple. I tried the soft pink one to match the pink shirt I’d put on after the shower.

Except, when I was done, the result looked nothing like Simone’s ever pretty nails. Maybe because hers were always perfectly manicured and hyper long, and mine were as short as could be from biting them in French class. No way was I going to leave the house looking like I’d been finger-painting. The only problem: the gift set came without nail polish remover.

Mom was my last resort. She always did her nails, so she would have some remover, too. Grabbing my schoolbag and also the CD for Ethan, I rushed downstairs to find my life-saver but stopped dead in the doorway to the kitchen when I saw her sitting at the small table where Gramps, Muriel, and I had held our own little celebration last night. She was wrapped in her dressing gown, a cup of steaming coffee in front of her, and the pretty auburn hair I always envied tied in a messy knot at the back of her head. When she looked up at me, dark rings dug deep into her skin underneath her green eyes. Obviously, the fighting hadn’t been over with the door-banging.

Mom smiled at me. A smile that drew forgiveness from everyone so easily. Including my dad. He came in at that moment and kissed her on the top of her head before he left for work. But first he came toward me and planted a kiss on my forehead, too. “I’m late,” he said. “See you sweeties tonight.”

“Bye, Dad,” I called after him. When he was gone, I sat down across from my mom. “You look tired.”

“I’m all right.” She reached across the table to squeeze my hands. “I’m so sorry for yesterday, honey. We didn’t mean to ruin the evening for you and Gramps.”

“It’s okay.” That was a lie, but she looked sorry enough; I didn’t want to add to that. “We ate the cake in here while you and Dad wrestled it out in the living room. And guess what?” I gave her a teasing smile. “Gramps didn’t die of a sugar rush.”

That made her laugh and eased the tension a little. “I know it was a silly reason for an argument. Dad and I will try to be better, I promise.”

I nodded, giving her the encouragement she needed. The problem was, all their fights started with silly reasons and I’d given up hope for a change a long time ago.

When she dragged my hand toward her and planted a kiss on my knuckles, she noticed my failed experiment and her forehead creased to a frown.

“Yeah,” I whined. “That was an accident. Can you help me fix it before I have to go?”

Mom brought out her first aid kit, which was actually a whole damn bag full of nail polish and stuff, and started rubbing drenched cotton pads over my nails until they were as clean as ever. “I’ve never seen you put nail polish on before,” she said, concentrating on the task at hand. “Why today?”

Grinning, I waited until she looked up and caught me pausing for a dramatic moment to announce my news. “I have a date today.”

“You don’t say!” All of a sudden, her face lit up like a light bulb. “Who is he? Do I know him? Is it Nick?”

“Frederickson?” I grimaced. “God no!” He was just a good friend. Even though there was this one moment when I’d thought I was falling for him. We’d just won a soccer match and Nick wrapped me in a bear hug, twirling me around. My stomach had filled with that butterfly feeling you always hear about, but it turned out to be just a burp from the soda I drank after the first half—which I suppressed of course. The moral of that story: Don’t let somebody shake you after you drink something bubbly.

“His name is Ethan,” I told my mom. “After school, we’re going to meet in town. He’s playing soccer in my place for a while. You know, because of my knee. We talked all of yesterday afternoon and he invited me to have a drink with him today.”

Mom stopped rubbing the nail of my pinky. Her face fell. “Did you say after school?”

“Yes. Three o’clock.”

“Honey, we have to pick up the car from the shop this afternoon. Did you forget?”

Hell, yes, I had forgotten. Dammit. The car had been in the shop for over two weeks, and Mom needed me to drive her out to Nipomo in my dad’s car, so she could bring hers home. I blamed Ethan for the recent black hole in my memory, since I normally had no trouble remembering anything like that…or my granddad’s birthday, for that matter.

“Can’t we pick it up tomorrow?” A whiny sigh escaped me. “I really want to go on that date. It’s my first, Mom.”

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry, but I need the car tonight.”

“What about Grandpa? Can’t he drive you?”

“He’s going to take Muriel back to Pasadena. She has an appointment she can’t miss.”

“Noooo.” With a loud thud, my forehead knocked against the table.

“We’ll be back around four. Maybe you can ask Ethan to meet up later?”

“Fine,” I muttered, fogging up the metal tabletop with my breath. What other choice did I have, anyway?

After Mom was done cleaning up the mess on my nails, I snagged a donut from the kitchen counter and left for school, eating on the way. The trouble with the nails had cost me too much time to sit through my usual breakfast of toast, eggs, and OJ this morning.

Licking my fingers after the last bite, I walked through the doors of Grover Beach High and headed to my first class—science. Pushing through the crammed corridors always proved a little hard in the morning. I shouldered my way through to my locker and got my science book out. As I banged the door shut and spun the lock, I caught a familiar figure in the corner of my eye. My heart started breakdancing. Crazy, I’d never had that feeling before, and it really felt as exhilarating as it was so often described in the many romance books I’d read. I stood there nailed to the floor for a moment, savoring that new experience down to the core. Eventually, I inhaled deeply a couple of times and walked up to Ethan.

He was surrounded by a group of people, three guys and two girls exactly. They all looked like seniors, a class above me, and I knew none of them. Ethan didn’t see me approaching. He was talking to one of the girls, a Thai supermodel lookalike—all long legs, delicate features, and yards of black hair.

The first thing I noticed about Ethan was his clothes. The white shirt and battered jeans fit him a lot better than the Charlie Brown outfit of yesterday. His short blond hair was styled to a casual Mohawk, his lips curving into a flirtatious smile directed at the girl.

A small sting in my chest made me aware of how much I disliked the sight of the two of them together, but I refused to read too much into this display and stopped next to him.

“Hey,” I said to catch his attention and gripped the CD I’d brought for him a little harder.

When Ethan turned his head to me, his smile wavered. He looked as if he was unsure whether I’d just spoken to him or to someone else. It didn’t escape me that he didn’t say hi. That caused my throat to dry out a little.

“Um, I brought you the CD,” I continued, my voice going from steady to hesitant within a couple of heartbeats as I held out the Volbeat album to him.

Now that he couldn’t deny I was speaking to him any longer, he turned to me fully, one hand in his pocket, the other wrapped around the strap of his backpack he carried on one shoulder. He still said nothing, and he didn’t take the damn CD, either. Instead, his gaze wandered from my head to my toes in a skeptical once-over. Heck, what was wrong with him today? And the worst thing about this was that all his friends were staring at me like I was some kind of alien.

I hated how a feeling of insecurity crept into me at Ethan’s considering look. Where was the chatty, fun guy from yesterday? Could he really forget me so easily, or was he just playing stupid? Well, there was one way to find out. Clearing my throat, I straightened my spine. “Listen, I can’t meet you at three today, something’s come up. So maybe we can postpone the date until a little later? Would five work for you?”

Ethan’s eyes widened. Folding his arms over his chest, he actually had the nerve to laugh. “Sweetness, what made you think you and I would be going out together?”

The air froze in my lungs. As a round of chuckles erupted from his friends, I wanted to vaporize like a vampire in the sun. He was nothing but an ass who’d been nice to me yesterday because he needed my
Yes
to join the soccer team. Nothing else. My hand with the CD dropped to my side. I swallowed hard, shock freezing my body, but I refused to let him have the last say. He could dump his crap on someone else.

“Obviously I got it wrong. Sorry, my bad,” I snapped, flipping him off as I whirled about and strode away.

From behind, a humored female voice drifted to me—the pretty Thai girl, I supposed. “What was that?” There was also the sound of a soft smack on someone’s shoulder, arm, or wherever it was that she hit him. “Are you dating that girl?”

“Ow, you’re breaking my heart, Lauren!” Ethan half whined and half laughed. “You’re the only one I’m dating tonight. I don’t even know who she is.” That was the last I heard before I let the voices of the other students around me drown him out.

And to think I’d even tried to paint my nails for him today… Agh.

But deep down it still stung.

Walking straight to science, I found my seat close to the window and slumped down with my arms crossed and chin dipped low. It took all of ten seconds until Sam and Nick made a beeline toward me. Sam sank into the vacant chair at my side, while Frederickson parked himself on the corner of my desk. “Wow, Susan, you’re wearing the face of a badger. What has you so wound up?”