he turns to look at me. That look of his, unhurried, thoughtful, scanning my face slowly. Are his eyes lingering on my eyes, my lips? I’m not sure. I want them to. Then he says, “Let’s get home. We’ll take the Bug and go somewhere. Alice owes me.”
As we clamber back over the rocks, I can’t stop wondering what just happened there. I could swear he was looking at me like he wanted to kiss me. What’s stopping him? Maybe he isn’t attracted to me at all. Maybe he just wants to be friends? I’m not sure I can pull off being just friends with someone whose clothes I want to rip off.
Oh God. Did I actually just think that? I steal another look at Jase in his jeans. Yes. Yes, I did.
We look in again at Andy and Kyle. Now she’s talking, and he’s taken one of her hands in his and is just looking at her. That seems promising.
When we get to the Garretts’ house, their van’s gone. We walk into the living room to find Alice and her Brad sprawled on the brown sectional couch, Brad rubbing Alice’s feet. George is fast asleep, naked, facedown, on the floor. Patsy is wandering around in purple terry cloth footie pajamas, plaintively saying, “Boob.”
“Alice, Patsy should be in bed.” Jase scoops her up, her little purple bottom so small in his broad hand. Alice seems surprised to find the baby still there, as though Patsy should have tucked herself in long ago. Jase goes to the kitchen to get a bottle, and Alice sits up, looking at me through narrowed eyes, as though trying to place me. Her hair is now dark red, with some sort of shiny gel making it stick up every which way.
After eyeing me for several minutes she says, “You’re Tracy Reed’s sister, aren’t you? I know Tracy.” Her tone implies that, in this particular case, to know Tracy is not to love her.
“Yup, from next door.”
“You and Jase seeing each other?”
“Friends.”
“Don’t hurt him. He’s the nicest guy on the planet.”
Jase comes back into the room in time to hear this, and rolls his eyes at me privately. Then he scoops the sleeping George easily into his arms, looking around the room.
“Where’s Happy?”
Alice, who’s settled back into Brad’s lap, shrugs.
“Alice, if George wakes up and there’s no Happy, he’s gonna totally lose it.”
“Is Happy the plastic dinosaur?” Brad asks. “’Cause that’s in the bathtub.”
“No, Happy is the stuffed beagle.” Jase rummages around under the couch for a minute, emerging with Happy, who has evidently led a long and eventful life. “I’ll just be a sec.” He walks by me, letting one palm rest for a moment in the small of my back.
“I mean it,” Alice says flatly once he’s gone. “You screw with him, you deal with me.”
She sounds fully capable of hiring a hit man if I make a wrong move. Yikes .
Opening the door to Alice’s car, an aged white VW Bug, Jase scoops up about fifty CDs from the passenger seat, then flips open the glove compartment to try to store them there. A lacy red bra falls out. “Jesus,” he says, shoving it hastily back in and burying it in CDs.
“Not yours, I take it,” I say.
“I really need to get my own car,” he says. “Want to go to the lake?”
Just as we start to pull out of the driveway, Mr. and Mrs. Garrett peel in and park, kissing like teenagers, her arms looped around his neck, his hands in her hair. Jase shakes his head as though a little embarrassed, but I stare at them.
“What’s it like?” I ask.
He’s backing up, his arm resting along the back of my seat.
“It?”
“Having happy parents. Together parents. Two parents.”
“You never had that?”
“Nope. I’ve never met my dad. I’m not even sure where he lives anymore.”
Jase frowns at me. “No child support?”
“Nope. My mom has a trust fund. I think he tried to get some sort of settlement, but ditching her when she was pregnant counted against him.”
“I’d hope,” Jase mutters. “I’m sorry, Samantha. Having
As we clamber back over the rocks, I can’t stop wondering what just happened there. I could swear he was looking at me like he wanted to kiss me. What’s stopping him? Maybe he isn’t attracted to me at all. Maybe he just wants to be friends? I’m not sure I can pull off being just friends with someone whose clothes I want to rip off.
Oh God. Did I actually just think that? I steal another look at Jase in his jeans. Yes. Yes, I did.
We look in again at Andy and Kyle. Now she’s talking, and he’s taken one of her hands in his and is just looking at her. That seems promising.
When we get to the Garretts’ house, their van’s gone. We walk into the living room to find Alice and her Brad sprawled on the brown sectional couch, Brad rubbing Alice’s feet. George is fast asleep, naked, facedown, on the floor. Patsy is wandering around in purple terry cloth footie pajamas, plaintively saying, “Boob.”
“Alice, Patsy should be in bed.” Jase scoops her up, her little purple bottom so small in his broad hand. Alice seems surprised to find the baby still there, as though Patsy should have tucked herself in long ago. Jase goes to the kitchen to get a bottle, and Alice sits up, looking at me through narrowed eyes, as though trying to place me. Her hair is now dark red, with some sort of shiny gel making it stick up every which way.
After eyeing me for several minutes she says, “You’re Tracy Reed’s sister, aren’t you? I know Tracy.” Her tone implies that, in this particular case, to know Tracy is not to love her.
“Yup, from next door.”
“You and Jase seeing each other?”
“Friends.”
“Don’t hurt him. He’s the nicest guy on the planet.”
Jase comes back into the room in time to hear this, and rolls his eyes at me privately. Then he scoops the sleeping George easily into his arms, looking around the room.
“Where’s Happy?”
Alice, who’s settled back into Brad’s lap, shrugs.
“Alice, if George wakes up and there’s no Happy, he’s gonna totally lose it.”
“Is Happy the plastic dinosaur?” Brad asks. “’Cause that’s in the bathtub.”
“No, Happy is the stuffed beagle.” Jase rummages around under the couch for a minute, emerging with Happy, who has evidently led a long and eventful life. “I’ll just be a sec.” He walks by me, letting one palm rest for a moment in the small of my back.
“I mean it,” Alice says flatly once he’s gone. “You screw with him, you deal with me.”
She sounds fully capable of hiring a hit man if I make a wrong move. Yikes .
Opening the door to Alice’s car, an aged white VW Bug, Jase scoops up about fifty CDs from the passenger seat, then flips open the glove compartment to try to store them there. A lacy red bra falls out. “Jesus,” he says, shoving it hastily back in and burying it in CDs.
“Not yours, I take it,” I say.
“I really need to get my own car,” he says. “Want to go to the lake?”
Just as we start to pull out of the driveway, Mr. and Mrs. Garrett peel in and park, kissing like teenagers, her arms looped around his neck, his hands in her hair. Jase shakes his head as though a little embarrassed, but I stare at them.
“What’s it like?” I ask.
He’s backing up, his arm resting along the back of my seat.
“It?”
“Having happy parents. Together parents. Two parents.”
“You never had that?”
“Nope. I’ve never met my dad. I’m not even sure where he lives anymore.”
Jase frowns at me. “No child support?”
“Nope. My mom has a trust fund. I think he tried to get some sort of settlement, but ditching her when she was pregnant counted against him.”
“I’d hope,” Jase mutters. “I’m sorry, Samantha. Having
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