Hallie Hath No Fury . . . (6 page)

“Oh,” Teddy said, and I was gratified to see he looked a little disappointed by this. “But…”

“Give me a call sometime,” I said, glad to be back to my plan, as I reached into my bag for the Sharpie I had waiting just for this purpose. I normally never would have said this to a guy, which was why it was nice to have this plan, this persona, to hide behind. I reached over and took his hand in mine, trying to ignore the shiver that spread through me again as our fingers touched. I wrote my cell phone number on his hand, letting my long, curly hair swing down as I did so, the ends brushing his fingertips. Then I straightened up and grabbed my bag, leaving him sitting on my blanket, hoping he wouldn't notice this right away, since it was essential he didn't. I gave him a smile, then turned and walked away. I didn't turn back, but got into my car, started it immediately, and drove away, not letting myself look back in his direction.

It wasn't until I'd gone a few miles down the road that I allowed myself to let out the breath I'd been holding. I pulled into a gas station, parked in front, and killed the engine. I knew I had to try and sort through what had just happened before I would be okay to drive on the highway again.

He'd call. I was almost positive he would. When I'd devised the blanket strategy, I was betting on Teddy's do-gooder streak—that he would consider it his mission to make sure something lost was returned to its rightful owner. But now … I bit my lip. I couldn't help but wonder if he would have called even if I hadn't left the blanket.

I suddenly flashed back to my hand touching his, how close his lips had been to mine. The feeling that this had suddenly stopped being part of the plan. Because I couldn't actually
like
Teddy. That was not at all something I had planned for. That would be nothing but a huge complication I really didn't need. It was one of the main lessons from every revenge movie.

Never let your emotions lead you. The second you do, you've been compromised.

I firmly tried to tell myself that I hadn't, as I started the car and made sure my mirrors were in the right place. This wasn't personal with Teddy. He was just a means to an end. Just a cog in a larger machine. That was all.

But then, all at once, I thought about his eyelashes, the kind way he'd smiled at me, and I felt my heart beat hard and my cheeks get hot. I caught my eyes reflected back at me in the rearview mirror, and I knew: I was in trouble.

CHAPTER 7

May

I was checking over my AP Physics homework when my phone beeped with a text from an unknown number with a Connecticut area code. I felt myself smile as I grabbed for it, eyes scanning the message eagerly.

     
203-555-1919

     Hey—it's Teddy. From the park?

     I have your blanket. Would love to return it in person.

     
☺

I felt myself smile. It had worked. It was on.

*   *   *

“Class president, huh?” I asked as I stood next to Teddy on line for the Burger Hut, my favorite spot to eat in Manhattan. I had the neatly folded blanket in my bag and was wearing another new dress, one that I'd accessorized so I looked like I'd just stepped out of the J. Crew catalog. “Impressive.”

“I don't know about that,” he said as he smiled at me. He'd offered to come into the city and return the blanket in person. He'd claimed he had some forms to drop off at the organization that was running his summer volunteering trip. This might have been true, but I had a feeling he also wanted to see me in a place where he wouldn't get caught by his girlfriend.

“So what's your platform?” I asked as we took a step closer to the counter. “Like, what does your administration stand for?”

He smiled at that. “I'm just trying to make my corner of the world a better place,” he said.

“I can understand that,” I said as we reached the front of the line, where a bored-looking guy in a headset raised his eyebrows as we approached. “Okay. So the burgers are insane, the fries are to die for, and the shakes are fantastic. I'm not letting you
not
get one.” I watched his face carefully as he studied the menu. I knew full well that Teddy was a vegetarian/sometime vegan, mostly from the amount Gemma complained about it online to Sophie.

“Well,” Teddy said, his eyes on the menu. “I usually don't eat meat … I mean, it's not…”

“Oh,” I said with a shrug as I stepped forward. “That's too bad. You're missing out.” I ordered my own meal, then turned back to him, leaning my hip against the counter. “It's perfectly okay to cheat once in a while,” I said, giving him a slow smile. “I promise I won't tell.”

Teddy looked at me for a long moment before he stepped up to the counter. When he ordered a bacon cheeseburger, I had to turn my head away so he wouldn't see me smile.

*   *   *

“You're lying,” I said as I stretched out across my bed, shaking my head at the Teddy looking back at me from my computer.

“I swear,” he said, holding up his hand like he was taking an oath. “I've never had peanut butter.”

“How is that even possible?” I asked, sitting upright. Teddy and I were video chatting, as we'd done most every night since we'd had our burger lunch. At first, I was methodical about these calls, always trying to steer the conversation where I wanted it to go. But the last few times we'd talked, I'd just been enjoying talking to him, sharing things that I wasn't planning to, just letting myself follow the conversation—basically doing everything that all my revenge lessons told me never to do.

But I found that I could somehow talk to Teddy. And he
listened
, which I hadn't realized was so rare until I noticed him doing it. He wasn't just waiting for his turn to speak, or waiting to jump in with an anecdote. He was playing attention to what I said. For whatever reason—maybe because I'd also been watching him for the past two years—I felt like I could trust him. And so, a few nights before, when he'd asked, in the usual “getting to know you” kind of questions, what my mother did, I told him.

He was surprised, of course, but impressed. And best of all, he seemed to understand the need for secrecy. I somehow knew that he wasn't going to turn around and start telling people. And it was nicer than I thought it would be, to tell him what it was like, how all our lives had changed so drastically in the last few years, my happiness about it but also my resentment. When we'd said good-bye that night, it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, one that I hadn't even realized I'd been carrying. And I slept better that night than I had in ages.

“It's possible,” Teddy said with a laugh, sitting up on his own bed. He was wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants, and his bedspread was a dark blue plaid, and I found my eyes straying to it much more than they should have been. “My mom was really worried about peanut allergies when I was a kid. She just kept it away from me, and so I never really got the taste for it. So that's how I've never tried peanut butter.”

I shook my head. “So it's something that could potentially hurt you,” I said, and Teddy nodded. “Or it's just totally innocuous. And you have no idea which one it is.”

“But that's like everything, right?” he asked, leaning a little closer to the monitor. He was wearing his glasses, which he did at night after he took his contacts out. I really liked them. I liked that I was getting to see him this way, and Gemma wasn't. It felt like something of him that I had and she didn't, as ridiculous as that was. “You never know when something could turn out to be totally deadly. A huge number of people get crushed by their refrigerators every year.”

I laughed, then immediately felt like I shouldn't, and clapped a hand over my mouth. “I don't think that's true.”

“But the basic fact of it is,” Teddy said as he settled back against his pillows, “refrigerators, peanut butter, people … you never know what might turn out to hurt you.”

“Or be perfectly fine,” I added quickly, feeling like this conversation was hitting a little too close to home.

“Or that too,” Teddy said.

I opened my mouth to say something, but then caught sight of something on his bedside table. It was a picture of Gemma. I recognized it from her profile picture about six months back. He'd had it framed and placed it on his bedside table, probably so he could see her when he woke up. I felt my stomach twist with jealousy, even as I struggled to remind myself that this wasn't real, that I was just doing this as a means to an end, that there was no need to feel like this.

“Hallie? You okay?” Teddy asked, leaning a little closer to the screen, his brow furrowed.

I made myself look away from the picture and back to him, giving him a bright smile. “Fine,” I said quickly. “Just sad about all the PB&Js you missed out on.” Teddy laughed, and I made myself keep my eyes on his, and away from his bedside table. “So how did the warbler meeting go today?”

*   *   *

“How can you like the paintings of ships?” I asked, genuinely baffled as we wandered through the Impressionist wing at the Met.

“How can you
not
like paintings of ships?” Teddy asked, sounding equally baffled, making me laugh. He'd come into the city again, and we were spending Sunday afternoon together. It looked like he'd told Gemma he had some research to do at the New York Public Library, and Gemma had happily told Sophie she was free, and they'd arranged to get manicures and see a movie.

Teddy hadn't told me about Gemma yet, and I was waiting to see how he played things. What I did next would depend on what he did. And as I'd been taught, I had plans in place for both scenarios. I was trying to tell myself that I'd looked forward to today because I wanted the plan to move forward, and that was why I'd spent two hours getting ready. But the fact was, I was thinking about Teddy much more than just concerned his involvement in the plan. And even though I knew I shouldn't, I couldn't seem to stop myself.

As we walked through the halls filled with gorgeous art, I let my hand brush against his. It was fast enough that it might seem like an accident, even though it was anything but. My heart was pounding as I waited to see how he would respond, and by the time we were in front of the Degas canvases—my personal favorites—he'd tentatively reached out and brushed my hand back.

I turned to face him as we stood in front of my favorite Degas painting. It was a dancer in the wings. She was half in shadow, looking out toward the lights and the stage, waiting for her moment.

I tried to tell myself that it didn't mean anything, that it was just part of the plan, as I leaned closer to him and rose on my toes, stretching forward to kiss him.

He pulled back and looked at me, and I made myself keep looking at him, trying to hide how terrified I was that he would tell me he didn't like me that way, he thought we were just friends, etc. But then Teddy took a step toward me, took me in his arms, and gave me the best kiss of my life.

I kissed him back, letting myself get lost in the moment, and while it was happening, I wasn't thinking about anything else except Teddy, and his lips on mine, and the way that everything—the plan, Gemma, the fact that we were kissing in the middle of an art museum—faded away until there was just me and him.

He pulled back and rested his forehead on mine for a moment. I leaned back and smiled at him, but now I could see that Teddy looked upset, a complicated series of feelings crossing his face like thunderclouds. “Hallie,” he said, then cleared his throat. “There's … there's something I should tell you…”

*   *   *

Teddy Callaway

Hallie, please. You have to talk to me.

Teddy Callaway

I just want to explain.

Teddy Callaway

Can you call me back? I can't stop thinking

about how we left things.

I hate that I made you upset.

Teddy Callaway

I'm around all night. Please call.

I looked down at my phone and wondered if the time had finally come to respond to any of Teddy's texts or messages. It had been three days since he'd told me about Gemma in the Impressionist gallery, and I'd burst into tears and run out of the museum and onto Fifth Avenue, Teddy following behind me, trying to get me to stop and listen. I had thought it would have been harder to pull off making a scene like that—if we hadn't left when we did, I was pretty sure the guards would have made us leave—but it turned out, a lot of my own, real feelings were seeping in. Even when I tried to tell myself I was just pretending, I knew that wasn't the case. And even though I was more than aware he had a serious girlfriend, hearing him stumble through his explanation—hearing him pick Gemma over me, having her win once again—had been hard to hear.

But I figured that I'd let him dangle long enough. I didn't want to push this so long that he decided it was just more trouble than it was worth. I was also a little nervous about how the conversation would go. Was this when he'd tell me he was sticking with his girlfriend?

If it was, I still had enough evidence to let Gemma know her boyfriend had been cheating on her. But getting him to break up with her was the ultimate plan. And … I didn't want it to be over with him, not yet. Not so quickly. I realized I really didn't want that, even though I knew it was going to get in the way of the plan.

My phone buzzed, and I picked it up when I saw Teddy's number. “Hi,” I said when I answered, making sure my voice sounded soft and shaky, like I'd been spending this whole time crying.

“Hallie,” Teddy said, all in a rush. “I'm so happy you picked up. I've been trying to reach you…”

“I guess,” I said, taking a deep breath, “I've been … doing some thinking.”