Almost: a love story Part 24

I grab my bag and open the door, trying to ignore him. But ignoring Gray Porter is like ignoring an elephant in a tutu. A really hot elephant-in a very manly tutu.

Of course I have to look. Especially when I've denied myself the sight of him for days. He's perfect in his brown cargo shorts, sporting the black Star Wars tee Mr. Foley gave us last week as a bonus. I pull my cardigan tightly closed over my middle. No need for him to notice that we're wearing matching s.h.i.+rts.

The s.e.xy smell of limes is coming off his damp hair in waves right now. I never noticed limes before Gray Porter. And now, when we're in the supermarket I sniff them like a psycho and then put them back. It's a shock how often limes are on TV too. They're everywhere. My favorite burrito shop even uses fresh lime juice to make the salt stick to their hand fried tortilla chips. UGH. I used to be able to resist eating more than a few, but lately, I've become a lime-chip-aholic.

"Did you get enough sleep?" he asks.

"Because it's easy to nap when I'm being stared at?" I snap. "Why are you here?"

"Jess..."

I meet his hurt, way too intense gaze. I'm unable to hold it for long. It's been only seconds and he's already got my defenses malfunctioning on every level.

I solidify my expression to flat. Bored. Dead.

He sighs. "I wouldn't have to hunt you down if you'd text me back. I've called every night at seven. And left messages, every other hour. Why won't you talk to me?"

"The contract states you must text and call me. There's nothing in there about reciprocating."

"That's why?"

I stare at him unblinking.

"G.o.d. You're serious." He crosses his arms and glares. He's standing so close I feel heat radiating off him. Heat I've craved like an addict after being wrapped in his arms the other night. I pull a Red Bull out of my bag and pop the top right under his nose. Thankfully, he takes the hint and steps back.

"I can't believe you're sulking around the parking lot like this," I cover. My heart rushes into my throat because I've made the mistake of looking into his eyes. I chase it away by gulping down the remainder of the Red Bull. No matter how fast he makes my heart race, I'm not going to fall for his magic this time. "I-you-said we were late. I need to get inside."

"I do too. But-I miss you. Can we please have lunch today? Get Mr. Foley to transfer you back to LightSticks and the DigiToyTech stuff. I know we can work this out." He gently grabs my arm and turns me to face him.

"No," I say, pulling away from his grip to start walking again. He follows. "Gray, no hard feelings about me skating on the tradeshow project. I want to be in s.h.i.+pping. I'm here to learn. As for lunch, I can't. Thursday is the department's monthly meeting. All staff members are required to attend. They give us free food."

"Whatever. You're probably making that up."

"Not. They're going to preview a new box-taping machine. The thing is awesome. Tapes over 400 multi-sized boxes per hour. Mr. Foley's asked me to run the training slideshow. I've been memorizing the bullet points."

"Tomorrow, then. Noon. I know Foley gave you the afternoon off. Meet me in our office, if you can remember where that is. Back hall, first closet on the right. Your desk is the one squished up next to mine. Face to face." His voice sounds half angry, half accusing. "We'll talk. I'll bring sandwiches. Say yes."

"I said, no! Why can't you get the message through your head? I can't be around you."

"Why? Why are you treating me like this?! G.o.d, do you p.i.s.s me off," he shouts.

I turn my expression to stone but it's almost impossible to hold. My brain is firing off different versions of what I'll say next to make him understand me permanently; but he jogs in front of me forcing me to stop again.

He grabs onto my hands.

I glance at his sneakers-not his face. Too dangerous. I'm panicking because my mind has been wiped clean by the simple feel of his palms against mine. I love that feeling.

"You're being unfair. You owe me at least the respect to hear what I have to say," he says. His voice is gentle...and low and rumbling. Zero anger.

d.a.m.n him and that voice and his hands.

I want to scream "foul" or "off sides" or any sports call that could make him stop weaving his way so easily into my soul. I try to regroup, but...his hands are so gentle on mine. I move my gaze to his fingers, and let my mask drop away.

"You're blisters are almost healed."

"Yeah." His thumbs traverse the back of my palms. I should let go, but I simply don't want to. I glance at his face. Any remaining defenses I'd stockpiled against him fold under the absolute anguish and confusion I see in his eyes. I've caused this. I've hurt him, and he's right. I do owe him at least some sort of explanation for why I pushed him so far over a cliff. I s.h.i.+ver. Could I simply tell him the truth about myself? If he knows all, he'll understand my permanent limitations.

"Tomorrow." I nod. "Twelve noon. I'll really listen. But you have to promise to listen to me right back. Even if you don't like what you hear, you need to hear me back. Deal?"

"Okay. I will. I will." He smiles and the dimple flashes. The relief in his voice makes his eyes seem over-bright as though he's feverish, or holding back tears.

But that's impossible because I'm the one doing that. I feel like a floating puff of mist. One so fragile and light, that if this boy blinks, I could easily disappear-be lost forever. But I know it's too late. I've been lost since the day he smashed his backpack into my car.

Stupid love. Stupid color green.

Why does Gray have the power to make me feel like this when I'm intelligent enough to know it's all a mirage? I wonder if this feeling will crush me when the summer's over. When I'm not allowed to hold his hands anymore.

When he walks past me in the hallways with his real girlfriend next year.

Will we smile and laugh about our secrets? Or will I die because I have to breathe his same air? I work my hands out of his, and together we walk inside. It's impossible to recover my back off mask, so I don't even try. "Um. Thanks. For...you know...finding me. I'm glad I'll get the chance to explain better. What happened at your house-all I said that night. I'm sure I wasn't making any sense."

Gray lets me pa.s.s in front of him through the lobby. "Jess, I'm the one who needs to explain. Everything. Why I've been acting like a complete weirdo around you. I tried to give you s.p.a.ce. Do what you wanted, but I can't. I know we can be friends. And-well, I think, I hope, you might want that-"

I b.u.mp him shoulder to shoulder to shut him up.

His whispered words have wreaked havoc along the back of my neck. I'm covered in goose-b.u.mps. Worse, uncontrollably blus.h.i.+ng like mad.

The GeekStuff.com receptionist has overheard Gray's indecipherable cl.u.s.ter of words. She's giving us this knowing smirk. Can't blame her, as we'd been holding hands for a really long time out there. I flush even more. "I uh...gotta go."

Gray, looking more fl.u.s.tered and awkward than I've ever seen him shakes his head. "Right. I'm an idiot. Tomorrow."

His voice follows me down the hallway. "When I text you tonight will you answer? Please?"

I don't look back. If I see his face I'll change my mind. I have to be strong. He'll understand where I'm coming from, eventually. Maybe we can be friends after this is all over like he says. But not until he knows the truth about me.

"No."

Chapter Twenty-Six.

Jess "Jess!" Dad's voice trails up the stairs. "I need some kitchen help."

I head out of my room and meet Kika in the hallway hauling a full laundry basket along with her. "Any idea why Dad sounds extra industrious? What did you see down there? Is it bad?" I ask.

"He's making that marinade sauce for the meat from scratch this time. The chili meat? For the burgers on Sunday?" Kika arches her brow and blocks my progress by turning the laundry basket to the side.

I pretend to ignore her attempt to block me and try to squeeze past her, keeping my voice light. "Oh. I should have known! He wants me to chop the onions." I force a smile but my heart has turned to weighted stones. Dad always makes his special super tenderized meat before a big BBQ. He makes it when he wants to impress someone. That someone is supposed to be my boyfriend, one Corey Nash. To be delivered in person in three days time.

Just because things have been off between me and Gray, doesn't mean I was stupid enough to cancel the barbecue plan. Yet.

"Jess. I'm waiting," Dad calls up again.

"Be there in a minute," I match the sing-song voice Dad's used and meet the challenge in my sister's eyes. "What's up?"

Kika won't budge out of my way. "What's up with you?" Her tone is sarcastic and p.i.s.sed off.

"Nothing." I push the basket forcefully out of my way and head for the stairs.

"Oh no you don't." Kika drops the basket with a thump. She catches me on the upper landing. "He's coming, right? To the BBQ?"

"Corey? Of course he is." I blink slowly and shoot her my best *what's-wrong-with-you' glare and head down the stairs. She follows. "No. Not him. I'm talking about your boyfriend. Is he coming? And don't try to pretend. Anyone could see that guy, Corey Nash, was into that other girl and not into you."

We stop in the front entrance. "I have no idea what you mean."

"I mean the other guy. The black haired, model-looking dude? Did you not see him, because I sure did. He's tall. Got green eyes, and he's major hot and very in to YOU. The one you were skating with, and you know it!" she shouts.

I check the hallways for signs of our parents. "Who do you think you are, b.u.t.ting into my life? You don't know anything," I whisper.

She doesn't whisper back. "I'm your sister. And I know a whole lot. Seriously, I'm about to blow up. Start talking."

"Tell me what you think you know," I divert.

"And give you the chance to twist your story again?" Kika crosses her arms and shoots me her little death glare-the one that wouldn't even wilt a daisy. "You tell me the truth first, starting with his real name, and then I might tell you what I'm meant to share with Mom and Dad."

I admire her answer. The girl's quick, and she's also scaring the h.e.l.l out of me. I motion Kika to follow me into the deep, bench-lined alcove that makes up the area inside our front door. "This is really none of your business. What have you already told them?"

"Nothing. But if the right guy doesn't show on Sunday afternoon, then you're going down. I'm done covering for you, especially when you haven't even told me one single thing."

"You're seriously threatening me?"

"Yes. I'm completely freaked. You don't even know how horrible it sounds when you scream in the middle of the night, because you're asleep. But I've been listening to you lose it all week. You're so lucky Dad's deaf and Mom was at a conference. Or they'd already be involved. I should have told Mom the second she hit the driveway. But I didn't. Because I thought you'd talk to me-about stuff-about what's going on. Jess. WHAT'S GOING ON?"

"Come on. It's not as bad as you're making this out to be. That other guy-you don't understand. It's not what it seems...or...it's just confusing, that's all. As for the long nights. I'm sorry if you couldn't sleep. You know I can't control that."

Kika's face crumbles into complete worry and anguish and she starts to cry. "I don't care about sleep. Do you know I've been trying to stay awake in case you need me? But you don't. You never ask for help. You never come to my room anymore." She gulps. "You haven't talked to me-you haven't even looked at me-since I saw you at the sports complex. I miss you. I'm scared for you."

My heart sinks. We hardly ever fight. And, she's right. I've never shut her out of my life before. "I know-" I start, but she won't let me finish.

"What I don't get is why you've played this really weird boyfriend prank on our whole family. I can only think you're, like-doing drugs. Or you're in some sort of trouble. Are you pregnant?"

I gasp. "This is not a prank. And this is definitely not me on drugs. I can't believe you'd think I was pregnant! Not even close. My entire future is at stake right now. It all rests on how things go for me this summer. Sue me if I've been a bit distant, but I've been busy working on my future. And it's not going very well. That's all. It's not personal, or against you, or Mom or Dad. Nothing like that."

She shakes her head and her eyes are icy cold. "Give me one reason not to tell on you right now. Say something real. Honest. If you even know how what that means anymore."

How could I let things get this out of control? I hate myself right now. Mostly at myself for breaking my sister's heart like this.

I sigh, knowing I can't lie to her anymore. "You want real? Fine. Let's start with the fact that I'm in love. Head over heels, hopeless love. And with the absolute-most gorgeous guy I've ever known. He's perfect actually. You saw him at the rink."

"I knew it. I knew I was right about him and you."

"But you aren't right. Truth is, I'm paying that guy to be my pretend boyfriend for the whole summer. And he's done an amazing job making everyone believe he and are the real deal. And I've fallen for him, like an idiot."

Kika's chin drops. "No way. What's his name?"

"Gray Porter. His best friend is Corey Nash, the other dude you met that night. We just traded their names to keep you and Mom confused. Corey and Mich.e.l.le-they don't even know what we've done. No one does. Except you. I can't let Mom and Dad find out none of this is real."

"What about the interns.h.i.+p? Please tell me you've been driving to a real job every day."

I grimace. "The interns.h.i.+p's legit. That's why I'm so tired. Why the nightmares are so strong. No time for car naps. I was thinking about quitting a week early. I just want to finish out this week. Make it to Sunday. But if you tell on me today, you'll ruin everything I've worked so hard to set up."

She throws her arms wide. "How can I ruin everything, if your nightmares are back and your boyfriend isn't even real. Sounds like your pretty much a total disaster, right here and right now."

I sit on one of the benches and let out a long sigh. "Yeah. I know." I lean back and meet her gaze. She sits on the bench across from me as I continue, "If Mom and Dad find out what I've done-if this information leaks at school-I'll die from the humiliation. I've pulled back from everyone because I'm trying to salvage some of the situation. My self respect, and my plans for college at the very least. But now, I don't even know if I have what it takes to make to college. Maybe Mom's right. Maybe I'll never be able to move out of this house."

"Oh. My. G.o.d. This is so messed up." Kika pulls in a ragged breath.

"I stayed away from you because I didn't want to admit that you were right about the dreams getting worse. I knew you'd worry too much. You always do. I'm going to ask for help. Soon. I'm asking you to wait three more days. You have to believe me, by Sunday's BBQ the entire thing with Corey Nash and Gray Porter will be solved. Over."

"How?" She arches one brow.

"I'm planning on breaking up with my boyfriend before the barbecue starts."

"But which one will you break up with? Corey? Or Gray?"

I feel my cheeks grow hot. "Both. Gray, I guess, and Mich.e.l.le too. You'll never see any of them again so it doesn't matter. And I'll be back to-normal. Back to my kind of normal, anyhow. I'm begging you. Give me the next few days. Real or not, my they are all I'm ever going to have with this guy. Heck, with any guy, and I know it's selfish of me, but I really want those days."

Kika sputters, "So-no one-no one at all is coming to this BBQ except for our family?"

I nod, working to swallow the lump in my throat. "Just us."

"What in the heck do you plan to say to Mom and Dad on Sunday?" Kika jerks her head toward the kitchen. "Mom's been cleaning the house and acting like a crazy homemaking freak. She's making me plant more flowers with her out front! What are you going to say to make any of this okay?"

"Easy." I shrug. "I'm going to tell everyone the truth. Then, I'm going to sh.e.l.l out the answer I always use: I'm sorry. Because, Kika. s.h.i.+t. I am sorry. You know I am. Then, our family can have a nice talk about all the shenanigans I've pulled. How I've actually made no progress at all. And what a sad, messed up, mental-case I'll always be."

I look away from her astonished gaze as I go on, "Dad will retreat into his office, Mom will cry, and you'll try to make everyone happy by being the nice, perfect one-as always. My college will be on hold, of course. I'm sure Dr. Brodie will have me back on his couch by Monday afternoon."

I stand, keeping my face a mask of serenity. But inside, I've become so heavy I'm amazed the weight of my permanently messed-up life doesn't simply push me through the wood floor. I wish it would. Being sucked in to the center of the earth has to feel better than this.

Kika crosses her arms. All of her angst fades away as the realization of what I've said sinks in. "OMG. That completely sucks. I think you completely suck."

"Yep. You're always the last to believe the c.r.a.p-a.s.s truth about me. I'm glad you've finally ramped in. Newsflash: I've sucked for three years. I'm sorry I lied to you, though. I won't do it again. Of course-I won't expect you to believe in me for a long time. It's only fair."

I head out of the alcove, but Kika grabs my shoulder. She's shaking her head back and forth as though she wants me to deny all that I've said. As if she wants to say more. But she knows what I've said is true. Her face has mottled to patchwork pink and white. A signal that she's about to have a major cry session so no more words are going to come out of her mouth.