Life in the No-Dating Zone Page 4

  “Speaking of people doing things to you, do you know how close you came to death today?”

  I placed a hand on my chest. “Moi?”

  He came nearer. Sweat rolled down from both temples. That’ll happen when you play with toddlers in 98-degree heat. “Yes, you. How about a heads-up next time? It sounded like you were about to spill my secrets all over the table.”

  “I couldn’t give you a heads-up. I was winging it.”

  “Seriously? I may have to kill you anyway.”

  “Oh, stop complaining. Everything went great and you know it.”

  A smug smile grew on his face. “Yeah, it did. So what’s next?”

  “Next is you joining us whenever you want.”

  “You mean you’re not gonna set something up?”

  “I don’t think I need to. I mean, you did really well. You shouldn’t have any trouble becoming part of Lindsey’s entourage.”

  “Maybe.” He walked past me to where he’d left his bike leaning against the wall of the house and picked up his helmet. “I want to be more than that though.”

  “I know you do, Gray. But that’s up to you. I can’t do it for you.”

  He strapped on the helmet. “I know. I have to get ready for work. But there’s still one thing you need to do for me.”

  “That’s a little bossy.”

  “It’s your fault.”

  “What’re you talking about?”

  He took another swallow of water. “You need to figure out what to do about my so-called stalker.”

  Seven

  Claire

  “Oh, right. The stalker.”

  Gray gave me such an annoyed look I couldn’t help laughing.

  “Ha, ha,” he said. “Very funny. What were you thinking?”

  “It was sheer genius.”

  “Sheer lunacy, more like.”

  I held up two fingers. “Okay, first, Lindsey loves a mystery. It grabs her interest right away. Second, you have another girl after you. That makes you more attractive. You’re more of a challenge.”

  “Whatever. The reality is I don’t have any girls after me. So what’re you going to do about it?”

  Good question. I had no idea. And his expression still made me feel like giggling. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll think of something.”

  “You’d better.” He picked up his bike. “Could you get the door, please?”

  “Sure.”

  We headed through the house to the kitchen where Gray said goodbye to my parents and ruffled Jack’s curls. On the front stoop, Gray straddled the bike. “Let me know what you figure out, okay?”

  “Of course.” I bit my lip to keep from smiling.

  He shook his head at me. “Go ahead and laugh. You’re not the one with the mysterious stalker.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just really funny.”

  He gave me a half-smile. “I guess. Hey, thanks for what you did today. Aside from the stalker thing, it was great.”

  “No problem. And we’ll figure it out. Really.”

  “See ya,” he said and rode off.

  I headed back to the kitchen to grab my new purchases. Jack sat at my dad’s feet, untying his shoelaces. My mom set the diaper bag next to the doorway. “So,” she said, “did he say why he came over?”

  That made me stop. I sank into a chair. Maybe it was because he wanted to kill me. “No. He never did.”

  “I like that boy,” Dad said, eyeing me. “You have my permission to date him.”

  “What! I don’t want to date him. He has a crush on Lindsey.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You still have my permission.”

  Mom laughed. “That’s not always so easy to come by, honey. You should take it.”

  “I don’t need to take it. I’m not dating him. I’m not dating anyone. Don’t y’all remember my vow?”

  “You made that three years ago,” Dad said. “You’re sixteen now. Times have changed.”

  “Not that much.”

  The front door slammed. Mimi strode in with high heels clicking, her suit skirt and blouse rumpled, her sandy hair dented in back as if she’d taken down an updo. “Hey, was that a boy I saw leaving this house?”

  “Momma!” Jack rolled onto his hands and knees and crawled toward her.

  She dropped her keys on the table and knelt beside him. “How’s my Baby Jack?”

  Mom nudged me. “Yes, it was a boy.”

  “It’s about time,” Mimi said.

  “What is wrong with everybody?” I said. “Why don’t you believe me?”

  “Believe what?” Mimi asked.

  “That I’m not dating anyone during high school at all!”

  My parents exchanged looks. Mimi picked up Jack and buried her face in his neck, making kissing sounds. But other than Jack’s giggles, no one spoke.

  “Well?” I asked.

  All three of them looked at me. Their expressions were a mix of confusion and wariness. Then, as if through some unspoken agreement, Dad broke the silence. “It’s okay, sweetie. I didn’t mean to cause problems. I just like the boy.”

  “A!” Jack said.

  Mimi looked puzzled. “A?”

  “It means Gray,” Mom said. “The boy who was just here. He’s made friends with Jack.”

  “Ooooh, Gray,” Mimi said, winking at Mom. “Hot name. And if he’s smart enough to make friends with Jack, then I’d say snatch him up.”

  Enough was enough. I gathered up my shopping bags. “Forget it. I’ll be upstairs. Only sane people need bother talk to me.”

  Dad laughed.

  In my room, I dumped the bags on my bed and kicked off my sandals. Where was this sudden doubt about my dating intentions coming from? My parents hadn’t said anything negative when I’d told them about my vow three years ago—they’d even been supportive. But now I had no clue what was going on with everyone. Nothing had changed. I just wanted to concentrate on the school part of high school, rather than a social life. It would help me get good grades, which would help me get into a good college.

  But the main reason for not dating was that I didn’t want to end up like Mimi—married with a kid at twenty-one and working as a paralegal. There was nothing wrong with it. She seemed happy enough. It just wasn’t me. And I shuddered to remember all the fighting in this house three years ago. Mimi and Carl’s intense romance—which started in their junior year of high school—and later their elopement almost ended my parents’ marriage. There was no way I’d let that happen again.

  Besides, I wanted to go to college, major in architecture or civil engineering, and get a good job.

  “Say hi to Gray for me!” Mimi called up the stairs. Then I heard a door close.

  Sheesh. Closing doors seemed to be necessary around here. I got up and took care of the problem. But thinking of problems and Gray, what was I going to do about the stalker? The simplest solution was just to tell Lindsey and Rose he’d talked to the girl and it was over. They might push for details—like who she was—but he never had to tell. And pretty soon they’d forget about it.

  I sat on the bed and pulled a shoebox out of one of the bags. A sudden thought made me laugh out loud. What if Gray really did have a stalker? Another girl in the mix would really shake things up.

  Eight

  Gray

  People filed out of the latest romantic comedy with smiles on their faces. Some even carried their empty cups. Good. Less work for me and Berger. We stood to the side next to the big rolling trash can. Usually I liked watching people leave in case we saw anyone we knew. But this time I was too tired to care.

  “Douchebag,” Berger said through a low cough.

  I looked around. Coming down the stairs with his arm slung over the shoulders of a hot girl was the legendary Sean Hatcher. At least he had been to the freshmen guys in my class when he was a senior. Everyone loved to talk about Sean’s latest sexual exploits—especially Sean. Half of what he said had to be lies, but guys treated him like a hero. In fact, Berger used to walk
around pointing out older girls and saying “she got Seaned.” When I asked why he didn’t say “she got Hatched,” because I thought it was funnier, he dissed me. Berger always prided himself on knowing who everyone was, and he informed me that saying, “she got Hatched” would be confusing because Sean’s older brother was called Hatch.

  Berger had grown up a lot since then.

  When the couple neared us, Sean glanced over and gave us a cocky grin. Yup. Still a douche.

  The theater was almost empty now. All except for two people sitting near the top. Just great. I wanted to tell them there were no funny extras tacked onto the end of the film, but I wasn’t allowed to.

  Music played on and I stifled a yawn. It was twelve fifteen. I was so ready to be home and in bed. This was the last theater we had to clean tonight, but we couldn’t start until people left. Finally the credits ended and the people got up.

  “It’s about time,” Berger said under his breath. Then five seconds later, he added, “Female alert.”

  It was his favorite line whenever we saw any girls from school at the Cineplex. I couldn’t tell who it was until they were about halfway down the steps. Amy Acton and that Nita/Nyssa girl. Please don’t stay and talk. Please just leave.

  “Hi, guys,” Amy said as they approached. And, then they stopped.

  “Oh, hey, Amy, Nyssa,” Berger said. “Didn’t recognize you at first.” He adjusted his glasses.

  Okay. Her name was Nyssa. I could forget the Nita thing. I lifted my head to acknowledge them. Maybe if we didn’t talk much, they’d leave faster. But Berger wasn’t helping.

  “Did you like the movie?” he asked.

  Amy laughed and stepped over to say something in a low voice to Berger.

  Nyssa moved closer to me. Man, she was tall. I’m five feet ten and could look her straight in the eye. “The movie was really good,” she said. “Have you seen it?”

  “No.”

  “You should. It’s really funny.” She laughed like she was nervous or something and tons of black curls jiggled around her face. Enough perfume to choke an elephant floated toward me. It even overwhelmed the old popcorn smell of the theater. I took a step back. I hated perfume on girls. It reminded me of my mother. “It must be nice getting to see whatever movie you want for free,” she said in a quieter voice.

  “Yeah, but we’re working most of the time.”

  “Oh. But you do get to see them. What kind do you like?”

  “Uh, mostly action flicks.”

  “Oh, really? I like those too!”

  Any more enthusiasm and she might’ve been doing backflips. I kept a polite smile on my face, but she didn’t say anything else. Just stared at me with her dark eyes. I shook out the garbage sack I held. “Uh, we need to start cleaning.”

  “You want us to help?” she asked.

  “No, better not. But thanks.” I edged around her and went up a step. “We need to get to it, Berger.”

  “Oh, right. Talk to y’all later.”

  “Bye,” the girls sang out as they left.

  I hiked up toward the top of the theater.

  Berger clomped along behind me, his steps almost in time to the bass coming from the theater next door. “Did I hear you turn down an offer of help? Female help?”

  “You want to get fired?”

  “No, but—yeah, guess you’re right. Hey, what’s going on with you and girls?”

  I walked through a row picking up cups, popcorn tubs, and candy boxes. Berger took the one below me. “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “You actually talked to Lindsey today … ”

  I had. I still couldn’t believe it. Felt like a week ago. “And?”

  “You keep going over to Claire’s house.”

  “Who’s helping me with Lindsey. Hello?”

  “And now Nyssa is flirting with you.”

  “Flirting?”

  He laughed. “Are you blind? Any closer and she’d be sharing your clothes.”

  “She wasn’t that close. Besides, you were talking to Amy.”

  “Only because she was waiting while Nyssa talked to you.”

  “Oh.”

  “She has a thing for you.”

  “Who does?”

  “Nyssa.” He bent over. “Ugh. I hate when people leave pickles on the floor.”

  “You say that every day.”

  “It’s true every day.”

  We continued on to other rows. “And Nyssa doesn’t like me,” I said. “She doesn’t even know me.”

  “Amy said she does. You should ask her out.”

  That stopped me. “I finally talk to Lindsey and you think I should ask someone else out.”

  “Yeah, someone who doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

  I spoke in my best robot voice. “Oh. Snap. A direct hit.”

  “Ha, ha. You might want to tell Claire to stop giving advice.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Claire told Nyssa to talk to you.”

  “What? How do you know?”

  “Amy told me.”

  Why would Claire do that? And after everything we’d talked about. “When did this happen?”

  Berger shrugged. “I don’t know. But Amy said Nyssa is really shy and would never have done it if Claire hadn’t told her to.”

  I moved on picking up cups as I went. This didn’t make sense. Claire wouldn’t do that. Would she? Was it a pity thing? Did she figure Lindsey would never go out with me, so she should try to get me interested in someone else? No. Claire always seemed pretty straightforward. And she hadn’t wanted to even get involved at first. But then she changed her mind and wouldn’t say why.

  What the heck was going on?

  “Gray?” Berger was all the way down near the screen. I hadn’t even noticed him going.

  I shook myself. “Guess I need to ask Claire about it. What’s Nyssa’s last name?”

  “Staphos. I can’t believe you don’t know that. She’s really pretty.”

  “Too tall for me. Besides she’s—”

  “Not Lindsey. I know, I know.” He scanned the rows near the screen. “Good, nobody sat down here.” He dumped his bag in the trash and grabbed a broom.

  A thought hit me, and I actually took a step backward. What if this was Claire’s way of dealing with the stalker thing? What if she decided it would work best for me to have a real stalker? She couldn’t possibly be that crazy. Could she?

  Nine

  Claire

  I’d just turned out my light when my phone dinged. Huh. I’d forgotten to mute it. I hated getting messages in the middle of the night and then not being able to get back to sleep. But thankfully it was only twelve forty-five and I hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

  Gray: You still up?

  I adjusted my pillow behind my head.

  Claire: Yeah.

  Gray: Did you tell Nyssa Staphos to talk to me?

  Claire: No.

  Gray: Amy Acton said you did.

  Claire: What? Wait. Ooooohhhh.

  Gray: What?

  Claire: I’m calling you.

  I pressed his number on my phone and he picked up immediately. “What happened?” he asked, sounding panicked.

  “Nothing major. Nyssa asked for help at Lainey’s pool party. I gave her my standard ‘talk to him’ advice. She never told me who it was.”

  “Well, it’s me.” He sounded frustrated.

  “Did something happen?”

  “She and Amy were at a movie tonight. They stopped to talk right before Berger and I had to clean a theater. Berger said she was flirting with me, but I don’t know.”

  I bent my knees, tenting my covers. “Oh, come on. You can tell when a girl is flirting, can’t you?”

  “Maybe not. She just seemed overly friendly.”

  “Which would be … flirting.”

  “Great.”

  I could picture the rueful turn to his lips and I chuckled, trying to keep the noise down so my parents wouldn’t come tel
l me to go to sleep. “This presents an interesting problem.”

  “I hope not. I wasn’t very encouraging.”

  “What if she keeps trying? We may have ourselves a ready-made stalker.”

  “Oh, thanks. Just what I always wanted.”

  I yawned. Loudly. If I had to label it, I’d say I sounded like a high-pitched puppy.

  “Am I boring you?” he asked, laughter in his voice.

  “Only sometimes.”

  He made a huffing sound. “Way to be blunt.”

  “Kidding, kidding. So you thought I was trying to sic some girl on you?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “You don’t know me very well if you think I’d do that.”

  “I didn’t think you would, but I figured I should talk to you about it.”

  “Ha. See, now you’re catching on.”

  “If you’d sit down and make a Lindsey plan with me, I’d catch on a lot quicker.”

  “Maaaybe,” I said, another yawn stretching out the word.

  This time he laughed. “Go to sleep, Claire. Talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  “Night.”

  I rolled over, being careful not to squash my stuffed pink pig, Henrietta, and plugged my phone back into the charger. Nyssa Staphos. Who knew? I couldn’t quite picture her with Gray, but stranger things had happened.

  With the sound of Gray’s warm laugh still in my head, I snuggled into my pillow. I think I fell asleep smiling.

  ***

  I jolted from sleep when something heavy bounced my bed. Okay, two somethings heavy.

  “Wake up, woman!” Lindsey said. “We’re seizing the day.”

  I cracked one eye open. Rose and Lindsey knelt on my bed with obnoxious smiles on their faces. I pulled the covers over my face. “Go away.”

  “Come on,” Rose said. “It’s getting late and we’ve got plans.”

  One of them tugged my covers. “What time is it?” I mumbled.

  “After ten,” Lindsey said. “So get moving. Your mom says you’ve got the Peterson kids at three, so we have a narrow window here.”