So Over It (18 page)

“Water,” Marin said. She perched on the booth next to Connor, looking totally uncomfortable. All of us did except Eli and the waiter.

He placed the drinks on the table. “Be right back.”

“Dr Pepper?” Eli asked, winking at me.

“Uh, yeah.”

“That’s our girl, huh?” Eli said to Connor, his smile big and fake. He stretched his arms along the back of the booth. He didn’t touch me, but still. Weird.

“Could you move your arm, please?”

“Right. Sorry.” He flashed Connor another smile. Dimples, crinkled eyes, the whole charming package. “Haven’t seen you for a while, man. What you been up to? Besides stealing my girl, that is. For the second time.” He punctuated this with a big, hollow laugh.

A twentysomething couple at a nearby table glanced our way. I wanted to crawl under the table and slither out of the restaurant.

“I’m not even sure I should let Marin sit over there with you,” Eli said. “I might leave the restaurant with no one.”

Connor took a deep breath but didn’t say anything, just looked at me. He seemed as dumbfounded as I was.

“Maybe you two should sit at another table,” I said.

Eli turned to me, his eyes round. “Why?” He said it big and breathy. I hoped to smell alcohol—an explanation—but didn’t.

“This is really awkward.” I glanced at Connor and Marin. “I think everyone would be more comfortable if—”

“If we just didn’t talk about what’s going on?” Eli said. “That’s your philosophy for everything, isn’t it, Skylar? Don’t talk about it. Don’t tell anyone.”

“Look, man—”

Eli shot Connor a look that shut him up. “Don’t even start with me. Has Skylar told you what it was like with her and me this spring?”

The twentysomething couple looked our way again.

“If you’re going to keep talking, will you at least lower your voice?” I asked.

“Eli, let’s go to another table,” Marin said. Her face bloomed crimson. She was probably very nice, and Eli was blowing it with her over some stupid vendetta.

Eli ignored her. “You could’ve called me from Hawaii, you know.” His blue eyes accused me. “But you just got out of the Land Rover and left. With
him
.”

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t say good-bye. That was a rotten thing to do. But—”

“But you don’t care about me. Right?” Eli smirked. “Just like you’ve never cared about me. Not this spring. Not when we were dating. And not last summer when you’d been flirting with me all day at the pool, only to go to Jodi’s party, where you practically threw yourself at that preppy—”

“That’s enough.” I looked across the table and saw that Marin had been smart enough to leave during Eli’s tirade. “If you’re not gonna go, we will.”

I thought Eli would put up a fuss, but he slid out of the booth. “Fine. Go. But you know next time Connor screws up and starts kissing girls who aren’t his girlfriend, I’m not gonna be around for you to rebound with.”

“I can only hope,” I said as I stood. Connor stalled my triumphant march out of there by throwing down cash for our untouched drinks. So not the time for his conscience. But it gave me time to say, “You used to be a real nice guy, Eli.”

He swallowed. “I’m a sore loser.”

How sore?

“Best of luck, Connor,” Eli called after us, his voice jovial. “She gets bored easy.”

“I didn’t throw myself.”

Connor glanced at me. “What?”

We’d been silent since we left the restaurant, both of us isolated in our own minds. I hated to consider what he might be thinking.

“Eli said I was throwing myself at Aaron that night. I wasn’t.”

Connor nodded, appearing to ponder this. “How do you know?”

If he’d said it to tick me off, it worked. “How do I know?” I demanded. “Because it’s not something I do. Ever.”

He shrugged. “You were drinking a lot. You’d possibly been drugged. How do you know how you acted?”

“Is this your way of comforting me? Because I gotta tell you—it stinks.”

We’d stopped at a red light, and Connor turned to me. “Do you need comforting?”

“My ex-boyfriend just made a scene at a decently nice restaurant. I could use a little comforting. And the light’s green.”

Connor punched the accelerator and the SUV jumped forward. “You handled yourself so well in there. I didn’t think you needed to be comforted.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. I needed Connor to tell me that what he’d witnessed back at Houlihan’s, the stuff he’d heard Eli say, hadn’t changed his mind about me. That he still wanted us to be together.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t read my mind and remained silent.

“Where are you going?” I asked as Connor turned into a random parking garage.

“We need to talk.”

“In
here
? It’s creepy.”

“Well, where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know. What do you want to talk about?”

He gave me a semi-exasperated look. “I want to talk about that night.”

“I don’t want to talk about it! I’ve told you that, like, a thousand times!”

“I think you need to,” Connor said, keeping his voice steady even though I’d screeched.

“Why?”

“Because I’m wondering if Eli told you the truth about what happened or if he’s making it up.”

“Making it up? What would he be making up?
Why
would he make something up?”

“Were you at the same table as me tonight?” Connor asked. “He said it right to your face—he’s a sore loser. And the night of Jodi’s party, it sounds like he thought he lost.”

“I wasn’t his to lose.”

“I don’t think he saw it that way.”

I swallowed and turned my back to him. Eli had been right—I’d been flirting with him that day. In four days, it would be exactly a year since the day of Jodi’s party. We’d been at the pool, baking in the sun. I’d leaned too close to Eli when I talked, brushed against him whenever I could. It sickened me to think of it now, my silly mind games. What would Connor think if he knew? Good-bye, happy, healthy relationship.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” I said. “I don’t know how else to say that to you.”

“I know you don’t, and I get it, but your entire truth of that night is based on stuff Eli told you. And after what I just witnessed, I don’t know if he’s the most credible source.”

“Don’t say that.” I couldn’t believe how menacing my voice sounded. “I know he’s not your favorite guy in the world—he’s not mine either—but he rescued me that night.”

“Here’s what I can’t figure out—”

“What part of ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ do you not get?”

“—if he saw Aaron put something in your drink, why didn’t he do something right away? Why wait until you were already up in the bedroom?”

I remembered Eli lifting me off the bed like I weighed nothing, his voice warm in my ear as he told me I’d be okay. And I had been, because he carried me out of there and kept me safe.

“Take me home,” I said in a flat voice. “I have nothing else to say to you.”

20

When my stomach growled a couple hours later, I realized I’d never actually eaten dinner that night.

“I’m starving,” I said to Abbie. “You want anything?”

Her eyes never left the Lifetime Original Movie. “Nah.”

As I dished myself leftover Pad Thai, Abbie called to me, “I thought you and Connor went to dinner.”

“We didn’t stay. Eli was there.”

“Is that what you fought about?”

I hesitated. “Who said we fought about anything?”

She snorted. “Please. You stormed through the door hours before curfew with your face all scrunchy. How stupid do you think I am?”

I didn’t answer, just stared at my plate of food spinning in the microwave.

When I turned around, Abbie stood in the kitchen as well. She opened the freezer.

“I thought you weren’t hungry,” I said.

“I’m not.” She pulled out a half gallon of mint chocolate chip. “But it’s the first Friday night I’ve got my driver’s license, and I’m at home.” She grabbed a spoon. “I’m eating till I hit cardboard.”

“Go for it.”

We both padded back into the living room, where Mom forbade us to eat. We did it anyway when she was out. Tonight she and Dad had gone to a black-tie fund-raiser of some kind. Or maybe that was tomorrow night and tonight they’d gone to a movie. I couldn’t keep track.

“How lame is it that our parents have more of a social life than us?” I said.

“Totally.” Abbie sighed. “You could, though. At least you’ve got a boyfriend.”

I thought of how I’d seen Abbie yesterday, crouched beside her bed, begging God to help her get over Chris.

“You want to talk about Chris yet?” I asked.

She seemed surprised by the question. “Is there something to talk about?”

I shrugged. “We haven’t discussed it much. I just thought you might want to.”

“Nope.”

“O-kay.”

Abbie rolled her big, cinnamon eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Say ‘okay’ like that. Like you think I’m holding out on you.”

“You’re not?”

“No.”

“Abbie. You told Chris you loved him and he broke up with you. But you don’t want to talk?”

“No.”

“You’re not upset?”

She laughed. “Like I said, I was really just surprised it didn’t happen sooner. Guys like Chris don’t date girls like me.”

Her words wounded me. As if girls like us didn’t stand a chance with nice guys. “You’re not who you were back then.”

When she took a breath, it wobbled. “She’s still part of me.”

Justin’s face came to mind, his hurt expression as he accused me of using him. “I understand.”

I woke up Saturday morning with that feeling in my stomach like I’d done something really, really wrong. It came back in a flood of anger and hurt—Eli showing up at Houlihan’s, Connor’s insistence on us talking about what happened a year ago. Almost exactly a year ago.

All night, I’d pushed Connor’s phone calls into voice mail. I hadn’t wanted to deal with him, but in the light of the morning, I could see how he’d been doing what he thought would help. How he wanted what was best for me.

I quietly buzzed through my morning routine—a shower, blow-drying my hair, fifteen minutes of choosing and changing my outfit, followed by three minutes of makeup. Then I snuck downstairs to the kitchen for a quick bite to silence my rumbling stomach.

“You’re up early,” Dad called from his office.

I jumped. “You scared me.”

“I gathered.” He maneuvered from behind his desk, through the open French doors, to the kitchen. “Where you off to?”

“The Rosses’.”

Dad frowned at the clock. “At eight?”

“Connor and I are having breakfast.”

Dad glanced at my hand halfway into the Cookie Crisp box.

“I needed a little something. The line at First Watch gets kinda long sometimes.”

He nodded. “Have an omelet for me, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” I couldn’t end the conversation like that, on a lie about a breakfast date, and I hunted for a quick conversation topic before I rushed out the door. “You and Mom have fun last night?”

“Mm-hmm. The movie stunk, but your mom seemed to enjoy it.”

“Well, she’s a chick.”

He smiled. “True.” Then his smile faded and he cleared his throat. Looked like this wouldn’t be as quick a conversation as I’d hoped. “Skylar, when you came in the other day, your mom and I were arguing, and I know how unsettling that must feel. But please let me assure you that your mom and I are fine. We’re still working through things, but we’re fine.”

I repackaged the cereal with care. “Okay.”

“Arguing is normal. There’s always going to be tension between people, but it doesn’t mean one of us is going to leave or that we’re getting a divorce.”

“How do you know for sure?” I asked. I thought of Heather and Guy, of how she thought she’d loved him at the time but now didn’t think so. “How do you know it’s the right relationship?”

Dad frowned. “Are you speaking specifically about your mom and me, or is this a broader question?”

“Broader,” I admitted.

“Well, I guess you don’t always know. Until the relationship is tested. As hard as the tests are, that’s when you find out if you’re in it for the long haul or if it’s time to call it quits.” He smiled. “Your mom and I are in it for the long haul.”