Life in the Lucky Zone (The Zone #2) Page 2

  Adam’s face went slack. “How’d you know?”

  My knees suddenly felt like jelly. I flung my arm backward, blindly reaching for something to grab on to. Adam swore and grabbed my upper arms, holding me steady. He looked around. “There’s no place to sit in here. You want to go outside?”

  “Is it yours?”

  Redness darkened the brown skin of his cheekbones. “She says it’s not.”

  “But it could be.” We stared at each other, and the truth was all over his face. Brisa didn’t look very pregnant, but four months ago I’d suspected something. And I’d stupidly ignored it. “You cheated on me. Last summer when you went down there. Didn’t you?”

  “We were drunk. It just happened. It didn’t mean anything.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Come on, Linds, you know I’ll always love you.”

  Love. What a load of crap. “Let go of me.”

  He did, and I took a step back. He dug his hands into his hoodie pockets and stared down at the floor. Through the windows of the baggage area, I could see travelers rushing to get to their gates. I wanted to be with them. To be going somewhere. To be anywhere but here.

  “I’m sorry,” Adam said to the ground. “I don’t know how else to say it.” He looked up. “I guess we just ran out of luck.”

  “We ran out of luck,” I said, my voice hard and flat. “After eight months together, that’s all you can say?”

  “Adam?” his grandfather called out, just able to be heard over the thinning crowd.

  Adam nodded to him and then turned back to me. “I’m going to stand by her in this, Lindsey. She needs me.”

  Tears burned my eyes, and I hated myself for it. What about whoever else Brisa had been sleeping with? Shouldn’t that person help her? “And apparently I don’t.”

  His shoulders dropped. “Babe—”

  “Don’t.”

  “Listen to me.” He leaned in close, overwhelming me with his scent—that unique blend of spicy soap and just … Adam. “You’re gonna be fine. You’re stronger than anybody I know.”

  Cuss words beat against the back of my front teeth, trying to get out. But if there was one thing all my years in theater had taught me, it was how to make an exit. I took a deep breath and straightened. Pasted a bright smile on my face. “Have a nice life, Adam. Merry Christmas.”

  I edged past him and walked out the door. Tears streamed down my face as the cold air hit me. I strode on, not trying to wipe them away. They were the only tears I could afford right now. I had to get home. And to do that I had to drive through Dallas highway traffic without sobbing over the steering wheel.

  There was absolutely no freaking way I could let myself sit in my car in the parking lot and cry it all out. Not when there was the chance that Adam and his new entourage might walk by and see me.

  He thought I was strong? I’d show him strong. I unzipped my coat so the freezing air could penetrate my sweater. Being frozen sounded like a really good idea.

  Three

  Berger

  A sharp knock sounded on the game room door. I twisted away from the live game feed I was watching. “Yeah?”

  My older sister, Ashley, stuck her head in, her long, dark hair swinging with the movement. “Drag yourself out of the underworld. Family meeting in ten minutes.”

  “Who says?”

  “Mom and Dad, of course. You think I’d have a family meeting with just you?”

  “Ha, ha. Be there in a s—”

  The door thudded shut on my words. Well, okay then. I stretched my arms overhead. What could the parents want this time? They were always having these meetings to discuss things they’d already made decisions about. It didn’t really make a lot of sense, but it seemed to make them happy, so Ashley and I went along with it.

  After watching another minute of the game, I closed the browser and put my computer to sleep. If I was heading into a meeting, I needed fortification. In other words, snacks.

  In the kitchen, Ashley was cutting some cheese to add to her plate of crackers and apple slices. “What? We’re serving hors d’oeuvres now?”

  She snorted. “These are mine, Doodles. Find your own food.”

  “You’re so selfish,” I said, opening the freezer. I grabbed the box of Bagel Bites and headed for the oven.

  “Oh, sweetie, it’s too close to dinner for those,” Mom said, coming into the kitchen.

  I pointed at Ashley. “She’s eating.”

  “She’s having a snack. You’re planning to eat a whole package of those things, aren’t you?” Mom asked.

  “Maybe … It’s too soon to divulge that information.”

  Dad walked in. “Just grab a cookie and sit down. This won’t take long.”

  I didn’t want a cookie. I wanted something cheesy and tomatoey. “Tyrants,” I muttered, then shoved the Bagel Bites back in the freezer and joined them at the round kitchen table. This meeting was going to be agony without something to eat. I’d have to poach from Ashley.

  Dad ran a hand through his brown hair and let out a long breath. Both he and Mom had purplish circles under their eyes. Not unusual since they worked super long hours at the coffee shop they ran. “Your mom and I were called at work this morning. Nana wandered off again.”

  Uh-oh. Our grandmother was getting worse.

  “Is she okay?” Ashley asked.

  “Yes,” Mom said. “She was in the park a few blocks away. One of the neighbors found her and was bringing her home when we got there.”

  “How many times does that make now?” Ashley asked.

  Dad pressed two fingers between his eyebrows as if he had sudden pain there and then adjusted his black-framed glasses. “Counting today, three times in the last four months. It’s time for a new plan.”

  I swiped an apple slice from Ashley, and she swatted at me. “What if she was just taking a walk?” I asked. “She’s always liked walking.”

  “She wasn’t wearing a jacket, and she missed her card group,” Mom said. “Mrs. Carrington showed up to give her a ride, and she wasn’t there. She would never do that if she were thinking clearly.”

  “Is it time for a nursing home?” Ashley asked, then popped a bite of cracker and cheese in her mouth.

  “We can’t afford ’round the clock care,” Dad said. “Besides, she’s healthy otherwise. Your mom and I want her to move in here. It’ll take some sacrifices from all of us, so we’re throwing it out for discussion.”

  Here? That sounded weird, but not too bad. Nana had always been my favorite grandparent—she’d practically raised me and Ashley during the early years of our parents’ climb of the corporate ladder. And later, when they’d had enough and decided to start the coffee shop, Nana had always been around to help.

  But still, I didn’t like that ‘sacrifice’ word. “What kind of sacrifices?”

  Mom laced her fingers together on the tabletop. “Someone needs to be with her all the time. We’ll have a caretaker during the day, but we’ll need you two to get here as soon as possible after school.”

  A sinking feeling settled in my gut. “I have drama club,” I said. “Do I need to quit?”

  “Probably not,” Dad said. “We’ll have to see. We’re going to fix our schedule so we can be home more often, especially in the late afternoon.”

  Ashley put down her water glass. “I have a late class on Mondays and Wednesdays next semester.”

  “It’s okay,” Mom said. “We’ll work around it. We’ll come up with a weekly routine. The important thing is that it’s going to be a big change.”

  I was tired of waiting for them to spell it out. “Where’s she gonna stay?”

  Mom and Dad exchanged a look. “We’d like you to give up your room for her,” Dad said.

  Of course. How did I know? “My room,” I repeated stupidly.

  “You spend most of your time in the game room, anyway,” Mom said. “We could move your things in there.”

  I tried to imagine squeezing my bed into the game room with its pool t
able and my long gaming desk. “Why not Ashley’s room? It’s bigger.”

  “Where would I go?” Ashley asked. “Your room? The game room?”

  Um, no. Point made. My sister living in the game room would ruin life as I knew it.

  “This way we’d only need to shift you,” Dad said, “instead of moving everybody around.”

  And by “everybody,” he obviously meant me and Ashley. “So, what’s gonna happen to Nana’s house?”

  Dad laced his fingers together on the table. “We’ll eventually sell—”

  “I mean, if you need more room here, I could move there.”

  Ashley laughed. “You? On your own? Not a chance. You just turned seventeen.”

  I gave her a fake smile. “Okay, you could move in with me. You’ll have your half of the house and I’ll have mine. We could install a huge mirror in the hall so you can turn your music up loud and watch yourself while you sing into your hairbrush.”

  “I haven’t done that since I was thirteen.”

  “The perfect time to start again. And I can turn the living room into a gaming center with long tables and new monitors.”

  “No way. The living room is common space. How about the back porch?”

  I squinted at her. “Too bright out there.”

  “I’ve got it!” She thumped the table with her palms. “The garage! You can put all your gaming stuff there. It’ll be nice and dark.”

  “Ooo. Good idea. And you can have your friends over to do girly things. And they can cook for me.”

  I dodged the wadded-up paper napkin she threw at me. “No one’s cooking for you.”

  “Invite them over anyway.”

  She frowned. “Which one?”

  “All of them.” I wiggled my eyebrows.

  Ashley laughed. “As if I’m going to subject my friends to my little brother’s attempts at romance.”

  “Hey!”

  Dad held up a hand. “Whenever you two are finished?” He tried to sound strict, but he ruined it by smiling.

  “We want to move Nana in here right after New Year’s,” Mom said. “Those couple of days before you go back to school, Trey.”

  “Whoa,” Ashley said. “That’s soon.”

  Mom sighed. “Well, we should’ve done it a long time ago. But she kept insisting everything was fine.”

  Dad placed his hand on top of Mom’s clasped ones. “So, everybody okay with this? Any questions?”

  “What about my job at the Cineplex?” I asked.

  “You may have to cut back on your hours.”

  “Uh, okay.” I’d already cut back because of after-school drama club. My boss would probably end up firing me, but I’d worry about that later.

  “Good,” Dad said. “Trey, figure out what you’ll want in the game room, and we’ll figure out how to get it all in there.”

  “Right.” I pictured my overstuffed dresser and closet. This was probably going to be harder than I thought, but it was for Nana, so I’d make it work.

  How bad could it be, anyway?

  Four

  Lindsey

  I stumbled into the kitchen, my open jacket catching on the door handle, my purse hitting the floor and spilling its contents. “Dammit!” Mascara and lip gloss tubes rolled dangerously near the bottom of the refrigerator. Tears stung my eyes as I knelt to save them. Nothing was going right. Not one single thing.

  “Do you need help?” my mom asked from the opposite doorway, fastening a two-carat diamond earring in her left ear. She was dressed to impress in a royal blue evening gown.

  “It’s okay,” I mumbled, snatching up my escaping makeup. I wiped the tears away before standing. I could not handle the idea of long explanations. I waved a hand to indicate her outfit. “So, what’s going on?”

  She came over and picked up my purse, setting it on the counter. “The heart disease fundraiser.”

  I stared at her blankly. I didn’t remember anyone mentioning such a thing in the last few weeks.

  “You know,” she said, “the one the golf club is sponsoring.”

  “Oh, right.” I pretended to remember, because it finally sank in I was about to have the whole house to myself. Perfect for shedding tears. “Aren’t y’all leaving a little early?”

  “Your dad has to be there before it starts.” She stepped closer, her blond bob swishing near her ears. “Are you all right? Your eyes look a little red.”

  “I’m fine, just tired.”

  “How’s Adam? Did he have a good trip?”

  I hesitated. I’d have to tell her about the breakup soon, but not right now. Not when all I wanted was to cry into my pillow until morning. “I think so. His parents were picking him up, so I didn’t stay long.”

  She gave me an I told you so look. She hadn’t wanted me to drive all the way to the airport for nothing. I should’ve listened to her.

  Dad walked in, holding up Mom’s lush, brown, faux-fur coat. “Hey, sweet pea,” he said and smiled. “I didn’t know you were home.”

  I forced myself to smile back. I probably looked like Chucky from the horror movies. “Only just.”

  Mom slid her arms into the coat. “What’re you doing tonight?”

  I shrugged. “Probably watching Netflix.”

  “Why don’t you invite the girls over?” she asked. “They can spend the night if you want.”

  She tried to mask her worry, but the pinch between her eyebrows gave it away. She didn’t completely trust me. Okay, so maybe I’d done some stupid things in the last year, but I wasn’t about to rush out to some party as soon as they were gone. There weren’t any that I knew about. Plus, I wasn’t in any shape to. But I should probably reassure her. “It’s short notice, but maybe I’ll invite them anyway.”

  “Good,” she said.

  Dad kissed me on the forehead. “The roads might be icy later tonight. Y’all don’t go anywhere.”

  I wrinkled my nose at him, only because it was our thing. “We won’t.”

  He wrinkled his nose back, and all three of us looked awkwardly at each other. I seriously needed to find some way to end this and get them out the door. “You guys look really purty.”

  Mom smiled, and Dad smoothed his hands down his tux jacket. “We’d better get going.”

  I stepped back even though I wasn’t in the way. Clear shot to the door, you two! Out you go! “Have a great time.”

  “We will,” Mom said, then kissed me on the cheek, her floral perfume filling my nostrils.

  Dad lifted the car keys from the rack. “See you tonight.”

  “Yup,” I said.

  And out they went. I grabbed my purse and headed into the entry hall, my boot steps echoing around the marble floor and high ceiling. Like being in a mausoleum. All it needed was a big, stone coffin. From the front window I could see the SUV’s headlights make it to the end of the driveway, then turn, and head down the street. They were finally gone.

  And I was completely alone.

  I trudged upstairs to my room, let my purse and jacket fall to the floor, and dropped face down on the bed. Then waited for the tears. But none came. Nada.

  I inhaled my pillowcase for ten seconds and then flipped over. What was wrong with me? After holding back tears for over an hour, why couldn’t I cry? The pain was still there, radiating from my chest to my stomach, but I couldn’t get it out. Like it was lodged in my throat or something.

  Above me on the ceiling, the four guys from Storm stared out of their boy band poster with their perfect hair and their perfect, sexy smiles and their perfect tats. “You suck,” I told them. “Every single one of you. Because you’re boys, and all boys suck.” I hadn’t even listened to their music in years. Weird, ’cause I had to admit I still liked them. Even though they were boys.

  Adam had always made fun of me for that poster, but I’d ignored him. It had been on my ceiling since I was fourteen, and I’d always thought it brought me luck somehow. I couldn’t exactly explain why. Like I felt more confident just staring at it. A
nd part of me liked that the poster bugged Adam. It was who I was, and I didn’t want to change that for anybody. But who I was obviously wasn’t good enough anymore.

  Frustration, hard and rough-edged, scraped around my insides. I grabbed the first thing my fingers touched—a plush pink heart—and threw it at the boys in the poster. The now apparently unlucky boys in the poster. The heart connected, making the paper crinkle, and then dropped harmlessly to the floor. It wasn’t enough.

  I clenched my teeth and started hurling anything I could find—stuffed animals, throw pillows—but other than a slight tear at one corner, the poster stayed together. As if the boys were laughing down at me: Do your worst. We don’t care. We can take it.

  Of course they didn’t care. They were boys. Boys like Adam. Who cheated. And lied. And dumped me for the noble role of protecting a pregnant ex. Or maybe that was just an excuse. He’d probably wanted to be with her for months, but geography had left him only me. Poor, poor boy. He’d soldiered on with only Lindsey Taylor for comfort.

  I rolled to my feet in one sudden movement. And the pain that had been radiating throughout me came together in a huge ball. I screamed. A loud, long, gut-wrenching sound that made me hunch over and grab my knees. That bastard. That soul-sucking, arrogant bastard.

  I heaved in shaky breaths and stumbled over to a pile of bigger stuffed animals. These should do some damage. I threw the smallest ones as though I were a ball-launching machine stuck on high. I missed the poster entirely, my missiles banging against the open closet door, and a few even flying inside. How lame was that? I couldn’t even hit the ceiling.

  I yanked a two-foot-tall teddy bear off the floor and hurled it across the room. A spike of adrenaline fizzled across my chest as soon as I let go. Because the bear flew straight toward the top of my dresser and crashed into it, sending old soccer trophies, perfume bottles, and the framed photo of me and my brother to the carpet.

  And then it happened, almost in slow motion. My American Girl doll teetered on her stand as if she were thinking about not falling at all. Then she dropped head first toward the floor.