Chapter 14
“Camila, has your dad brought you that red dress yet?” Cammy’s mom asks, leaning in her bedroom doorway on Saturday morning.
Cammy huffs as she stands behind Yvie, straightening her hair with a flat iron. “Umm, no. Don’t you think I’d be screaming about it if he did?”
Mrs. Garcia huffs, scooping Cammy’s toy poodle, Cinnamon, into her arms. “The nerve of him. He escapes to Mexico with that trailer trash woman, and he can’t even shell out a few bucks to buy you a new dress. You told him how much you wanted it, didn’t you?”
“Yes, mom,” Cammy drawls. “I texted him a bunch while he was away, including selfies of me in the dress. He’s aware. I bet that new wife put a stop to it.”
Cammy’s mom grunts, letting Cinnamon lick under her chin. “She better not. I’m the one who made that man into who he is today. If he doesn’t start putting you first, I’m going to move us out of this town.”
Yvie and I both look at Cammy. Instead of being surprised, she grins like she’s hatching a scheme. “You want him to chase after us, so he can still see me?”
“If that’s what it takes for him to take our family seriously,” Mrs. Gracia says, flicking her sleek, chestnut hair off her shoulders, “then that’s what we’ll do.”
Cammy’s mom marches down the hallway, Cinnamon whimpering in her grip, and I slump in my cross-legged position on the plush, white carpet.
“Whoa, Cammy,” I whisper. “That’s intense.”
“What do you expect?” Cammy says, gliding the iron against Yvie’s white blonde hair. “Dad’s left us no choice. We need to take drastic action for him to remember me and Mom are his number one priorities.”
“Oh my gosh!” Yvie squeals, lifting her phone. “It’s a new text from Zane!”
Yvie hasn’t stopped gushing since we met up this morning. Things between her and Zane have heated up quickly. They hung out last night after his football game, and then they made out in the back of his truck. They’ve been flirting for a while, and now Yvie’s locked him down.
As for me, I can’t believe I was texting with Kai Nelson last night. I mean, it was only about that silly assignment, but still. We weren’t calling each other names. That is, if you don’t count me calling him a nerd. But that was harmless teasing. If I liked him, I’d even call it flirting.
But I don’t like him.
Not in the slightest.
I just like that he cares about finishing our assignment.
It benefits both of us, and he wants it to happen.
I just like that, okay? Gosh, why do I need to work so hard to convince myself of that?
Maybe it’s because we’ve spent all morning talking about boys.
During the countless times Yvie has read aloud her text exchange with Zane, so many feelings have bubbled up for me.
Granted, my texts with Kai are barely amicable, whereas Yvie and Zane are too hot to handle.
But merely texting with a guy gives me tingles in new and exciting ways.
Yvie’s had too many boyfriends to count, and Cammy has tried to make it work with two different guys.
But it’s never happened for me. I do everything I can to look as pretty as they do, sound as flirty as they do, act as touchy as they do, but none of it works.
The three of us shared a dream of dating football players, and I’m the only one who’s failed.
Sadly, texts from my somewhat hostile lab partner are my only thrill.
Unintentionally, I remember the tender way Kai held my wrist at the Jasmine Garden Chinese Restaurant. How the concern colored his hazel eyes when he asked who was hurting me. He cared.
He had to care.
He couldn’t have faked that.
Why would he care? He could have easily doubled down on the hate.
But he took back the hate.
Hmm. I wonder if he’ll text me again?
My phone vibrates in my back pocket, and my breath hitches in my throat. My heart pulsates with a frazzled beat. Is that him?
My fingers tremble as I reach behind and pluck my phone from my back pocket. As I pull my phone around to face me, I take a settling breath.
With one quick check, my heart rate plummets.
It’s a text from Mom. I open it with immediate regret. "I don’t want you spending all day with the girls," she texts. "I want a good report from Mrs. Field when I get in touch with her this week. You should be home studying."
“Oh my gosh, Mom,” I grizzle aloud at my phone. “It’s Saturday. Lay off.”
Cammy laughs, running the iron through Yvie’s hair. “Are you talking about your mom, or mine?”
“Ugh. No, mine is driving me nuts,” I reply. “She’s obsessed with keeping in contact with Mrs. Field.”
“I think Mrs. Field sending my mom that email was one of the best things to ever happen,” Cammy says.
I scoff at her. “How so?”
Cammy’s grin is nearing Cheshire-levels. “She’s been using it to lure my dad over to the house. You know, so they can speak about their problem daughter.”
Yvie jerks in her seat. “Are you okay with being used like that?”
“Uh, yeah,” Cammy says, like it’s obvious. “Duh. We use every chance we get to save Dad from that horrible woman.”
As Cammy continues to rant about her new step-mom’s terrible qualities, an idea strikes me. If Mom’s on my case about the chemistry assignment, it gives me the perfect excuse to text Kai.
I open to his messages, and my thumb hovers over the keypad. It’s just a quick text. It won’t hurt. He probably won’t even reply. It’s not like he’ll care.
I start typing and then halt halfway through.
What if he doesn’t reply?
Will I come off as desperate?
Does he hate that I text him?
Frowning, I lower the phone and watch my friends giggle at something on Yvie’s phone. Probably another lovesick message from Zane. I wish I had that.
Something tingles up my spine.
Not only was Kai texting me last night, but he texted first.
He looked right in my eyes at the restaurant and took back the words; he hated me.
"My mom’s going mental about this assignment. It’s driving me up the wall."
Okay, it’s sent. Can’t take it back now. Well, I could. I could hit unsend, hoping he hadn’t seen it. And he probably hasn’t. Why would he check my text this quickly?
I lower my phone, exhaling hard. Why am I stressing over this? It’s not like I like him or anything. The thought of him just makes me feel good.
My eyes widen, and I shake my head.
What?
Kai Nelson makes me feel good?
Why on earth would I think that? He’s called me a witch, a she-devil, a ditz, demonic, and an airhead. What about him could possibly make me feel good?
“Ah, Tabby?” Yvie draws out my name. “Are you hyperventilating or something?”
I wave her off, shifting my weight as I sit cross-legged on the plush white carpet. “No. No, I’m good.”
Cammy smirks. “Please don’t keel over in my bedroom. I don’t need the drama.”
Yvie laughs. “I can see the headlines now. Tabitha Jones has a heart attack in the bedroom of Camila Garcia. Was Cammy the culprit?”
Cammy flicks her index finger against the top of Yvie’s head. “Rude. As if I’d give Tabby a heart attack.”
“Yeah, it’s not like she’s scared of you,” Yvie continues to joke.
The words hit home for Cammy, who slams her hand on her hips and grips the flat iron harder. “Excuse me?”
Yvie squeaks. “Jokes. It was a joke!”
I blink at the two of them. Whoa. Is Cammy really that perceptive about how she makes me feel? Maybe there is a regretful part of her after all.
My phone vibrates in my hand. I look down, and relief overwhelms me.
Kai texts, "Sounds like my mom."
I’m texting before the reply hits my brain. "Can you give me something that sounds smart to tell her? What can I say we’re working on?"
My fingertips tap along the side of my phone as I await his reply. Luckily, the girls have zoned me out again. I stare hard at my last message. Has time paused? Why isn’t there a reply? Boredom sets in, and I’m about to click into another app when my phone vibrates.
"You think I can come up with that?" Kai replies.
"Are you with your brother?" I text.
"No, I’m never with my brother. Ask your own brother. Doesn’t he do all your homework?"
Am I never gonna live that down? I want to point out to Kai that he’s a liar, because he was with his brother last night. But I foresee him arguing that his parents forced him to be at the restaurant. I really don’t want to argue and end up discussing my own parents.
"I barely see my brothers on weekends. Besides, you heard them. They’re not bailing me out again. They did force us to be together at Village Coffee, remember?!?"
"Why don’t you tell your mom you came up with the time experiment?" Kai texts. "Tell her we’re working on which chemicals to use."
My mouth turns o-shaped as I play out the scene with my mom in my head.
"That’s brilliant. You don’t mind me taking credit?"
"What do I care?" he replies. "I’m not gonna meet your mom."
My chest is lighter, and there’s a happy bounce to my heart. I sink back against the side of Cammy’s bed in relief.
Cammy clears her throat. “Tabby, who are you texting?”
I lower my phone, placing it face down on my lap. “No one.”
Cammy smirks. “Then why do you look so guilty?”
Yvie gasps. “Oh my gosh. You didn’t!”
My breath hitches in my chest. “Didn’t what?”
A hand hovers over her mouth as she replies, “You’re texting Hayden, you bad girl.”
My shoulders slump as the breath fizzles out of me. “I am not.”
“Look at yourself, Tabby,” Camila doubles down. “You’re so into him.”
“I’m not texting Hayden. It was my mom.”
Yvie splutters with laughter. “Ah, yeah right. You’ve got problems if you blush over your mother.”
Cammy claps her hand at me. “Give it.”
I snatch the phone and hold it behind my back. “No.”
Cammy sighs. “You may as well. I know your passcode.”
“No, you don’t,” I blurt. “I changed it.”
I didn’t, but I sure will now.
“Fine, have your secrets,” Cammy says with an air of boredom, walking over to her vanity mirror. “But I wonder if Cindy suspects anything?”
I slip my phone into my back pocket. “It’s not Hayden. I swear.”
I’d show them the text from my mom, but I know it won’t be enough. They’ll steal my phone and check the rest of the messages. Right at the top, it’ll show Kai’s name, and then I’m screwed. I don’t know how I feel about him. I can’t discuss him with the girls until I’ve figured it out.
I think about his last reply and what I might type back. But I’m not risking it here. If Cammy sees me texting again, I’m done for. She’ll wrestle the phone out of my hands, and before I know it, she’ll post a story online that Kai and I are official.
I don’t need the heat. Ugh, I can imagine my mother. “Tabby, you’re supposed to be working on your assignment, not making out with your lab partner.” It’d be just like her to believe a social media post over her own daughter.