The Lance Temptation Part 10

"What exactly do you say?"

"I don't say anything. Farah just told me you didn't have much experience and you and Marc were boring." He threw both hands in the air. "She said it, not me."

Big surprise. It was bad enough Farah harped to me about it, but to broadcast her judgments to Lance was over the line.

"I see. I'm glad you both have me all figured out. I didn't know you were such experts."

"Whoa." He balked. "What's wrong with you tonight? Come on, Cecily, this isn't even worth it."

"What exactly do you mean? You've done nothing except talk about Farah all night!"

He shrugged. "Only trying to make conversation. You're jumpy and grouchy. I can get this c.r.a.p at home." He stood up. "Maybe we'd better go."

The door to the apartment jangled. Lance and I both froze.

"No way," Lance said under his breath.

The door opened and Pete came through. When he saw us, he dropped his duffel bag and stared. "What...?"

Lance flew into action. He grabbed my backpack from the floor and tossed it at me. "We were leaving."

"You better be leaving. This is great, Lance, you never even asked." The sarcasm dripped from Pete's voice.

"You were busy," Lance answered. "And you would've said no."

"You got that right, I would have said no. What were you thinking? Bringing Emili over here to use my apartment for..."

Lance shoved into him, knocking him against the wall. "Shut up!" It was a growl.

I was over the shock enough to run. I tore out through the open door into the frigid air outside. I didn't wait for Lance, I just ran. After a block, my lungs were screaming from cold so I slowed to a walk. What a complete disaster. Lance hadn't even checked with Pete - it was insulting. Not to mention humiliating. To think Pete could've seen us...

What did it matter? The evening was over before Pete came in. Way over. I was sick to my toes of hearing Lance go on about Farah. And that wasn't all - I was scared of how far I might've gone with him.

I began stomping my way back to the library.

It was stupid, but I hoped Lance would catch up to me. I hoped he'd tell me Farah meant nothing to him. I hoped he'd tell me how much he loved me and we could go more slowly and get to know each other better. Then I'd tell him I didn't mean it when I said we should go, that all I wanted was to snuggle and be together.

I put my hand over my mouth. I didn't want the night to end like this. I wanted everything to be smoothed over and for both of us to be happy. All the planning and excitement were down the toilet, and Lance would probably never kiss me again.

I swiped at the tears that trailed down my cheeks... The last thing I wanted to do was cry. Crying would only prove again how innocent I was. Farah and Lance must've had a big laugh talking about boring innocent me. I could imagine how Farah would've gone on and on, mimicking me.

My yearning for Lance morphed into a nasty taste of betrayal. I felt sick.

I got to the corner of 8th and Meridian and plopped down on the curb. The cold from the concrete went right through my jeans and I started to s.h.i.+ver.

In truth, I'd been rude, too. I'd snapped at Lance, and earlier I'd been mean to Farah. I couldn't even think about how I treated Marc. What was the matter with me? The tears increased. Why was I acting like such a jerk?

"Cis?" It was Lance.

I jumped up.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. You?"

"I'm okay."

"Pete still mad?"

"He'll get over it. I'll have a couple bruises, no big deal."

"So you didn't ask him."

"He would've said no."

I sighed. We stood there in the dim streetlight looking at each other. At that moment, we were the only two people on earth. Finally I said, "You followed me."

"It's dark, and you're a girl walking alone. Give me some credit. I don't want your murder on my hands."

I chewed the inside of my lip and wiped at my tears. "I'm sorry, Lance. I know I was totally catty."

"It's okay."

"I ruined our whole plan."

He took my arm and we started toward the library. "Pete coming home didn't help."

I leaned into him as we walked. He'd come after me. He was watching out for me. Maybe things weren't as bad as I thought.

It's always nice to hope.

Chapter Nine.

My mom was sitting in the car right outside the library when we rounded the corner. I froze. "It's my mom!"

Lance stiffened. "Get behind me quick. Maybe she didn't see you."

I ducked behind him, and I heard her car door open.

"Emili?" she called out. "Is that you?"

I slowly came out from behind Lance. "Hey, Mom, you're early." I gave her a wobbly smile.

She approached me with a skeptical look. She tipped her head to the side and squinted at me in the streetlight. She glanced at Lance and her expression hardened. "I guess I am early. What are you doing out here?"

"I, uh, well, Lance was at the library, and we came outside because it was super-hot in there, and you happened to come at the same time."

It sounded stupid even to me, yet strangely my mouth kept going. "It's a lot cooler out here, isn't it? Mom, this is Lance, and he's in my..."

"Emili, get in the car." Her voice was firm. She whirled on her heel and led the way.

I glanced frantically at Lance who gave me a helpless look, then scurried after her. It wasn't often she got mad, but when she did, you'd better look out. She marched ahead, her arms stiffly at her sides. Her body was actually jerking with each step, reminding me of a Gestapo.

She got into the car and slammed her door. I slid into the backseat without a word. Hot air blasted from the heater. The stuffiness made it nearly impossible to breathe. Mom yanked on the gears, flipped the car around, and headed for home. The tires sprayed gravel against the curb, and I grabbed the seat in front of me to stay upright. I observed her profile in the glow of the dashboard and saw her lips set in a tight line. My life was over.

At home, I braced for the coming tirade. I'd dropped my backpack on the floor, where it lay wilting at my feet. Mom walked stiffly to the closet and methodically hung up her coat. She was a battery-operated robot, each movement precise, calculated. She faced me and said in a voice full of eerie calm, "Sit down, Emili."

I sat.

"Explain yourself." The words were clipped.

"I can't." Visions of prisoners facing firing squads filled my mind.

"What do you mean, you can't?"

"I already told you what happened..."

"Only a fool would believe such drivel." The words came out rapid fire as her voice rose.

She'd freak out if I told her I'd gone to an apartment alone with Lance.

"Okay," I said, issuing a silent prayer. "I knew Lance would be there. He's my boyfriend now."

"What happened to Marc?"

"We're over." I went on, "We were walking around outside because it was hot inside the library. I'm sorry I lied." I met her eyes. I was sorry I'd lied, but I couldn't stop myself from keeping the lies rolling. Would she buy them?

"I wish your father were here. I'm beginning to hate him having two jobs." She sat down beside me with a huge sigh as if all the air had been let out of her tires. She put her hand on my leg. "I know you'll have temptations at this age, Emili, but if I can't count on you to tell me the truth then we're in a world of trouble."

I nodded. "I know. You're right."

"You can't lie to me again. Walking around outside in the dark is foolish. You're inviting trouble. Plus, I don't even know who this Lance is. I a.s.sume he goes to Bates?"

"Yeah, he's a soph.o.m.ore. He's new, only been here about a month or so."

"I hope he comes from a good family..."

Did he? I'd no idea. We hadn't gotten far enough to discuss his family - I only knew Pete.

"You'll be punished because you lied," she said, pausing to roll her head in slow circles like it was sore. "And you're grounded from your phone for one week. No computer time either."

Only one week? Wow, how did I get off so easy? And had she forgotten the computer was usually at her office anyway, so being grounded from it wouldn't even affect me?

"Okay," I said.

"Emili, why didn't you simply ask me if you could meet Lance at the library? Why lie about it?"

I shrugged. "I didn't exactly lie. I did go alone. He was just going to be there, too. Besides, I thought you'd say no."

"Omitting details is the same as lying. I might have said no. Then again, I might have said yes. You didn't give me a chance." She stood up. "I'm not happy about this, Emili. Not happy at all."

"I know. I'm sorry."

I went into my room, plopped down in the middle of my bed and thought of Farah. She'd think this whole situation hilarious, and she'd be proud of me. Lying was one of her favorite sports. How ironic to realize my life was no longer boring, and she wasn't my friend anymore. A deep sadness pressed into my chest.

I put on my sweats and climbed into bed. It was early, way too early to sleep, but I felt worn out. I traced my lips lightly with my fingers. If I concentrated, I could still feel Lance's kiss.

I concentrated.

He'd been sweet to follow even though he was mad at me and at Pete. He was a nice guy. If only he'd stop asking about Farah. A shadow hovered over me, but I resolutely shoved it aside.

He liked me. He did.

Him following me proved it.

By the time the weekend came, it felt like I'd been without my phone for over a year. My hand twitched with wanting it. Last week in English, we critiqued an article about technology addiction. We got into groups to debate its claims. Everybody was hyped up, saying the whole thing was ridiculous. How could a person be addicted to something like technology? It wasn't drugs or s.e.x or smoking. I was right in there, agreeing with the best of them.

Well, I was wrong. Obviously, I was addicted to my phone. All I could think about was who'd been calling me, what I'd missed online, what texts were lying there unanswered. Complete torture. I tried bribing Sarah into lending me her phone. No such luck. She enjoyed the power and flitted around the house all week displaying her phone like she'd invented it.

Oh, she could get on a person's nerves.

I slept in as long as I could on Sat.u.r.day. I knew if I stayed in my room all day though, my mom would get irritated. At eleven, when I was pulling on my jeans, Sarah came dancing in.

"You could knock," I said.

"Farah's here."

I plunked on my bed. "What?"

Farah pushed past Sarah into my room. "Yes, it's me." She waved a dismissal to Sarah. "Thanks, see you later."

Sarah flared her nostrils at Farah and trounced out, slamming the door.

"Well, aren't you Miss Rise and s.h.i.+ne. Sleeping all day?" Farah said.

"What do you want?"

"I want you to stop acting like a jerk."

I stood up. "What? I think we know who the jerk is."