Chapter 6
That night, instead of eating at home, my parents decided to eat at a seafood restaurant in Clinton.
Mom invited the Morris family to come along with us, which meant I was wedged ever so perfectly at the rounded table between Landon and Jaden.
Being beside Landon wasn’t too bad, but he did nothing to help intercept Jaden, who hadn’t taken a breath since we got to the restaurant.
“I’ve never been here before,” he said now, leaning closer to me to drop his voice.
Our parents were laughing about something related to the school board, but instead of listening to them—or at least pretending to listen, like I’d been doing—Jaden wanted to start his own conversation.
“The atmosphere is really cool. Le Petit Bateau? French, right? I like it. Is the food any good?”
“If you like seafood,” I replied, picking up my glass of water and taking a long drink.
“Last time I had it, it made me sick,” Jaden admitted, putting his hand on his stomach now. “I guess my stomach can’t process it very well, or whatever. But I’m sure this will be different. After all, it’s Settler approved, right?”
I glanced at Landon. “You think so, too, right, Landon?” Help me, brother, make this a three-way conversation.
My brother glanced down at us, his carefully composed expression breaking into something more amused. He looked like he was laughing on the inside. If my parents weren’t in plain view, I could’ve hit him. “Mmm-hm.”
And he didn’t say anything else. I definitely could’ve hit him.
“Gemma.” Jaden leaned closer and dropped his voice, dark eyes glimmering. “Did you tell your parents about the list?”
He’d whispered it, but I still looked at my parents anyway, drawing in a breath. Thankfully, they were immersed in a conversation about football. “No, and I’m not going to.”
“Oh, well, I—”
“This is Landon’s favorite place to come,” I told Jaden, cutting him off and lifting my voice a bit louder. “At least, when the Oliphants come along.”
If he wasn’t going to help me with Jaden, I was going to tease the heck out of him for his crush.
Whenever we went out to eat together, he always sat beside Madison, and their small talk always seemed way less painful.
She actually made him laugh, which was a rarity for him. He was totally crushing.
Landon looked at me now with a little bit of a frown, but the damage had been done. Mom actually did a full-stop in whatever she was saying to Mrs. Morris and turned to look across the table. “Oh, Landon, have you asked Madison to the homecoming dance yet?”
Landon drew in a breath, the tips of his cheeks getting red. It was a curse of his—whenever he was even the slightest bit embarrassed or angry, his cheeks reddened like a tomato. Another trait he got from Mom. “Homecoming is still almost a full month away, Mom.”
“So? You have to ask her sooner than later—think of all the boys who will snatch her up before you!”
No one would’ve caught the dirty look Landon gave me unless they actually knew him. Nothing about his features changed—his lips were still relaxed, his forehead was still smooth—but the depths of his blue eyes promised payback.
“Jaden,” Landon began, leaning around me to peer at the junior. “Have you asked anyone to homecoming yet?”
Underneath the table, I jammed the heel of my shoe onto the toe of his, but the giant didn’t even flinch.
The entirety of our table turned toward Jaden. His teeth glinted when he smiled, and he sat up straighter in his seat, clearing his throat like he was about to give a grand speech. “Well, actually, I was thinking—”
“All right, who had the garlic shrimp scampi?” Our server swept into the moment like the most beautiful reprieve, grinning around unwittingly.
She looked high school-age with her hair pulled out of her face into a cute bun in the back, and even from across the table, I could see the bright glint of a nose ring.
“Ah, it was you, wasn’t it, sir? Mr. Extra Garlic Sauce? ”
“That’s correct,” Dad said with a laugh. “The wife probably won’t kiss me for the rest of the night, but it’s worth it.”
“Should’ve gotten extra, extra garlic,” Mom teased back, which caused Mr. and Mrs. Morris to chuckle—whether out of actual humor or discomfort, it wasn’t clear.
I eyed the nametag pinned on the server’s apron, and in an elegant scrawl, it read Lacey. “Crab legs for you, my dear,” she said as she set the plate in front of me, careful not to brush against my arm.
The server quickly divvied out the rest of the dishes. Landon watched her closely, no doubt waiting for his own food. Jaden reached for my plate of crab legs, but I jerked it closer to my chest. “Oh, I can do it.”
“I don’t mind helping,” he replied, placing his hand on the other side of the ceramic, his thumb nearly landing in the ramekin of butter.
I kept my grip strong. “It’s fine. Really.”
“Don’t worry, I can get all the crab meat out for you.” Jaden winked and tugged the dish closer to him.
I refused to budge, but I should’ve. The server was in the process of placing Jaden’s plate in front of him—a plate of sushi, which seemed suspicious for a guy who got sick off seafood—and his elbow collided with her side.
He let go of the plate, but since I was in the process of pulling it back, I ended up yanking it too hard.
The crab legs slid to one side of the plate, and though they didn’t fall off, they did knock the ramekin of melted butter over, and it spilled into my lap.
Jaden started profusely apologizing, and Lacey joined in, though Landon quickly assured her that she did nothing wrong—all the while I sat there silently, staring at the butter that quickly soaked into my most recently created skirt. The grease stain was already setting in.
“Oh, Gemma,” Mom said from across the table, pursing her lips in a disappointed way. “Why do you always have to make things more difficult?”
“I make things difficult,” I muttered under my breath as I scrubbed at the butter splotch with stain remover in front of the washing machine.
I wasn’t sure I was making much of a difference—the bottle said to apply the remover within five minutes of the stain, and I’d gotten to it over an hour later—but taking out all the recent frustrations on the fabric felt good.
“Right. Me. Not grabby hands Jaden, who couldn’t crack a crab leg to save his life. ”
Despite the butter debacle, Mom insisted that I let him attempt to crack my crab legs for me.
Attempt being the operative word—it took him five minutes to get one leg cracked, and even then, the meat came out all shredded and mangled.
Still edible, of course, but harder to dip into the new butter dish Lacey dropped off. And yet I made things difficult.
Then again, what had I been thinking? I should’ve let Jaden take the stupid dish to begin with. Standing my ground over stupid crab legs? What happened to keep your mouth shut and your head down, Gemma?
Grow a backbone, Sophomore.
I threw the skirt into the wash and twisted the dial to delicate, angrily praying for a miracle.
When I walked down the hall, I knocked on Landon’s open door, already dressed in my pajamas.
I had an immediate view of my brother when I stepped up to the threshold.
He had his head bent over his desk, feathering his pencil across the piece of paper in front of him.
Through his reddish-brown hair, I could see a white earbud stuck in his ear. Totally lost in his own world.
I flicked the light switch once, startling him enough to jerk his head up. “Oh, hey,” he greeted, pulling out the earbud and angling his scrap piece of paper over the picture. “What’s up?”
“Can I talk to you about something?”
“Ominous.” Landon set down the pencil and turned his chair toward me. He, too, was already dressed in his pajama pants, though his eyes were wide awake. “But sure.”
My brother’s bedroom was the same size as mine, but since he had a larger bed—a queen instead of a twin—the space felt more cramped as I made my way inside, sitting down on the blue duvet.
There wasn’t anything overly personal about his bedroom, but then again, he wasn’t in it too often.
Between school and practice and working on homework in the kitchen, he only ever was in his bedroom to sleep.
To sleep, and to draw. From here, I could see that his fingertips were smudged with graphite. “The sketch coming along okay?”
He double-checked to make sure the image was obscured. “Oh. Well. I’m just goofing off.” He dusted his hands together, but it did nothing to rub away the smears on his skin. “What did you want to talk about? The whole thing with Jaden today?”
My shoulders slumped. “How come you don’t help me out a little?”
“I thought you liked Jaden’s attention. What was up tonight?”
Before, I would’ve liked the attention, or at the very least, I wouldn’t have minded it. Now, though… “There’s attention, and there’s too much attention.”
“I get it. Next time I’ll intervene before he tries buttering you up like you’re a crab leg.”
I scrunched my nose at him, but quickly sobered as the real reason why I came in here resurfaced.
I smoothed my palms over my knees as I cast a quick glance at his door, but I knew where Mom and Dad were.
Dad was currently parked in front of the TV, enjoying his Monday night football, and Mom was probably already in her bubble bath.
Landon beat me to it. “Is it about the list?”
“I was wondering when you were going to say something,” I said, eyes falling on the sketch on his desk.
Landon tried not to draw too much, since he knew our parents didn’t love it for him—“you should be training or watching plays on YouTube,” they’d say—and he only really drew when he got the urge to.
I wished I could’ve seen what he was working on.
“Listen, I’ve already heard the speech about the list, so you don’t need to give it again. ”
“Who gave you the speech?”