Chapter Thirty-Five
My parents won’t let me sleep over anymore after the summer’s over,” I tell the boys as we park our bikes outside the store. “They said I’m getting too old.”
“They’re probably afraid we’ll play Suck and Blow.”
Of course Collin references the card game just as Mr. Busey walks out of the store. I smile like he didn’t just hear what he heard. He eyes us like we’re delinquents.
“Dude, why do you say the dumbest things?” Jonathan asks with an exhausted eye roll.
“No more ’90s movies,” I declare. “You’re being corrupted.”
“What? Clueless is a classic. But seriously, should we invite people over and try it?”
“No!” Jonathan and I shout at the same time. I don’t want to imagine having to pass cards from mouth to mouth by sucking to receive it and blowing to pass it. The card would never move past Collin when, in his lame attempt to kiss the girl, the card would accidentally fall.
We make our way to the back of the store to pick out sodas.
“Hi, Bridget. Hi, Melanie,” I say, offering a smile to the two girls lingering in front of the coolers.
When they turn to find me, they start laughing, like I’m an inside joke. I have no idea what’s funny. We were friends most of middle school. But at the end of eighth grade, they stopped talking to me for no reason.
Collin thinks it’s because they have a crush on Jonathan. But so does half the middle school and even some high schoolers. Whatever. I won’t let them ruin my summer. I cried over them enough.
“Hi, Jonathan. Hi, Collin,” they practically sing in unison.
“Ladies,” Collin says in greeting, tipping his baseball hat like he’s from 1950. They giggle. “You’re terrible friends.”
Their mouths drop. I bite my lip to keep from smiling and focus on the blur of sodas in front of me. Jonathan nudges me with his shoulder and gives me a wink. My mouth stretches into a smile.
Kids, pizza’s here,” Jane calls down to us while we’re arguing about which movie to watch first.
“Footloose,” Collin yells at the same time Jonathan and I yell, “Underworld.”
“You both suck,” Collin harrumphs, standing up.
“Well, you blow!” I yell back as he heads up the stairs. At the same time, Jane comes down, carrying the pizza box. I cover my mouth with my eyes bugged out.
Jonathan and Collin begin laughing so hard; I want to hide in the bathroom for the rest of the night. Jane doesn’t react at all.
“Here’s some paper plates and napkins,” she says, setting everything down on the coffee table. “Boys, use the napkins, not your shirts. And, Sadie, don’t pick up after them. They need to learn.”
Collin scoffs. “She’s worse than us.”
“Collin,” Jane scolds.
“Sorry, Mom,” he says, kissing her cheek.
“I’ll be going to bed soon. Do you have everything you need?”
We all nod.
“Goodnight, Mrs.—” I stop myself. “Jane.”
“Goodnight,” the boys call after her as she walks up the stairs.
As soon as she’s gone, they start laughing again like the whole thing just happened. I open the pizza box and take out a slice and let them get over themselves.
When I return to the basement with more sodas for everyone, Collin’s the only one down there. He grins up at me, letting me know he did something I’m not going to like. Then I look at the TV. Footloose plays on the screen.
Jonathan returns from the bathroom. “What the hell?”
“Too bad,” Collin says, stuffing his face with pizza. I open a can of soda.
“Whatever. He sucks,” I tell Jonathan. Collin doesn’t play fair. We’re used to it.
“And you—”
“Say it, and I’ll stuff this pepperoni up your nose,” Jonathan threatens him.
Collin opens his mouth. Jonathan rolls the pepperoni. Collin puckers his lips to form a B. Jonathan tackles him.
I sip my soda and watch the spectacle. I’m thinking about switching the movie when I hear Collin say from within a headlock, “Why do you care? Are you going to marry her or something?”
I roll my eyes and take a gulp.
“Yeah, and you’re not invited to the wedding,” Jonathan says, about to force the pepperoni into Collin’s mouth.
I choke and snort at the same time, and the grape soda spurts like a sprinkler out of my mouth and nose, all over the pizza. The boys stop. I start laughing uncontrollably. The contagious kind that makes them lose it too. Except their noses don’t sting from grape soda.
Your parents invited me to dinner next weekend,” Jonathan announces like this is a good thing.
“Congratulations,” a swimmer says to Jonathan as we leave the pool.
Jonathan nods in acknowledgment, more excited about being invited to dinner at my house than winning two medals at the state championship.
“It’s not the golden ticket you think it is,” I tell him with a heavy sigh. “You kinda screwed up when you sent the bouquet of peonies to the dance studio three weeks ago.”
“I did? But it was Valentine’s Day. And I thought they’re your favorite flower.” Jonathan looks unsure of himself. This is new. And it’s adorable.
“Congratulations, Reeves!” Hollers follow us through the parking lot. Jonathan raises his arm, not sure who he’s thanking.
“They drove three and a half hours to see me compete today. That must mean something.” It is a big deal.
But they also didn’t want me to drive this far on my own.
They even booked a hotel last night since the first event was at eight-thirty this morning.
Thankfully, it was the relay. Starting off the early hour with a medal got them excited.
“They figured out we’re back together. And wanted to show a united front.”
“They didn’t know?” He sounds more shocked than I expected. Or is that a nervous tremor?
“They didn’t not know. They never asked. I never told them.” I stop in front of my dad’s car, where they’ve been waiting for me since the meet ended. I lean in and say, “You think you know Eli and Priscilla, but you don’t know them as Mr. and Mrs. Prescott with a teenage daughter.”
“Yes, I do.” He glances at the car. My parents wave with proud smiles. Doubt seeps into his confident facade.
“I’m really proud of you.” I lean up and kiss him briefly—parents are watching.
Although I didn’t seem to care when I practically jumped on him after he won the breaststroke and made a huge public display of…
congratulations. Smothering my dripping wet boyfriend with kisses definitely clued my parents in that we’re serious, just like we were before the longest month of my life.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I tell him. I get in the back seat of my dad’s car, leaving Jonathan in a dazed state of uncertainty.
How are your grades?” my mother asks Jonathan once we’re served the main course. “Is your scholarship just athletic or academic as well? That was very impressive, by the way. I’m glad we were there to see it.”
Jonathan’s been panicking the past week, desperate to squeeze any bit of information out of me in preparation for tonight.
He even went to Graham Westhouser to ask about his experience.
Except Graham loved the interrogation. He’s convinced my parents are the best—the past two Christmas cards indicative of how much he misses them.
Not me though. He won’t acknowledge me in the halls, ever, since our breakfast breakup.
It’s not like I’ve been purposely cruel to Jonathan with my vague answers.
There’ve only been three boyfriends invited to dinner.
And one shouldn’t count. He was a summer-camp crush before sixth grade.
And my parents insisted on having him and his parents attend our Labor Day barbecue at the lake. It was beyond embarrassing.
“Do you know how to change a diaper?” Gavin asks.
“Why are you even here?” I demand. “This isn’t a special occasion.”
“Yeah, it is.” He chuckles.
My dad hides a laugh behind his napkin.
My mother clears her throat to get Jonathan’s attention, like she can’t hear either of them. Jonathan replies, “Both. I was awarded the dean’s scholarship as well as an athletic scholarship. And it meant a lot to have you there.”
“Excellent,” she says. And I can almost hear Jonathan release a breath. Little does he know, she’s just getting started. At least she waited ’til dinner’s nearly over to get to the harder questions.
“Have you ever been around children? Sadie said she wants six.” Gavin grins like he’s having the best night of his life.
“Six?” Jonathan gawks at me like he’s the one being asked to birth them.
“When I was, like, eight,” I say dismissively. “I realize now that it’s not practical.”
“That’s right,” my dad adds in, like he’s just remembering. “It’s four now, isn’t it?”
“So?” I say with a roll of my eyes. “That’s the perfect number. As long as none of them are like you.” I make a face at Gavin. Jonathan still looks freaked.
“Do you plan to further your education beyond a bachelor’s degree?” My mother continues to pepper questions. Jonathan doesn’t know where to look.
“Uh, most likely. Most engineers get better placement with a master’s. I’ll need an internship at some point, so it’d be great if I could get it partially funded.”
“An architectural firm?” she clarifies, having already asked about his career choice while we ate soup. I wasn’t kidding about the five courses. Gavin takes this opportunity to top his wineglass. Dad removes the bottle from his hand before he can pour more than an inch.
“Yes,” Jonathan confirms. His eyes seek mine from across the table. I think there’s a silent plea there. I’m not sure how I can save him now. Perhaps we can skip dessert.
“I may know of a contact in Connecticut when the time comes, if… it all works out.”
My chair scrapes against the floor when I shift to stare at the woman sitting next to me. Gavin literally drops his fork.
“Gavin, if you can’t hold a fork, you probably don’t need more wine,” Mom says, pressing her mouth into a smile.
We all gape at her. She picks up her fork and knife, cutting into her halibut like nothing happened.