For The Summer Page 9

  Shit. I was so distracted I actually forgot that I went in there for breakfast and two coffees. I stare at her for a second. Then my brain starts working.

  “Their payment system was down so I couldn’t actually order breakfast. This was complimentary,” I say, smiling and handing her the cup. I know lying is a jerk move, but I can’t go back in there and I can’t tell my mom why. Not after her total freak out this morning. Besides, if whatever Fin and I are doing is a secret I don’t really know what I would tell her anyway. The comped coffee story isn’t even a complete lie, it’s half a lie, or a half-truth.

  “This is really good,” Mom says, pulling the cup into her lap awkwardly. It becomes immediately apparent that I have just lost my third coffee of the day, but I don’t say anything. I can tell she needs it more than I do.

  When we pull into the driveway the coffee is gone. The sound of the plastic straw fishing for the last bit of whipped cream at the bottom fills the otherwise silent car. I stare at the cup longingly. Whatever that concoction was must have been heaven.

  “I could go for a spa day,” Mom says. “What do you think? We could head into the city and get a hotel for the night. Spa treatments, room service, and big beds we never have to make.” She shifts in her seat smiling at me.

  “I don’t know,” I say, scrunching my nose. I’m not really a spa day kind of girl. The idea of a stranger giving me a massage makes my skin crawl a little bit and soaking in a giant tub thousands of other people have stewed in is definitely out of the question. I pretty much draw the line at mani-pedis.

  “I mean, we can’t both go because of the dog. You should definitely do it though. You deserve it.”

  Mom shakes her head. “No, I couldn’t just leave you alone.”

  “Mom. I’m almost nineteen. I’ll be fine. And anyway I was thinking I’d call that girl Robin, see what she’s up to tonight.” It’s another lie, but this one is for a really good reason. In the last year, my mother has lost all of her friends and the community she called home for twenty years. If anyone deserves a spa day it’s definitely her. Especially after her meltdown this morning.

  “Are you sure?” she asks. Her tone is hesitant. I know she wants to go but truly feels torn about leaving me alone.

  “Absolutely. I’ll probably finish unpacking, order some dinner and go out with Robin and her friends. And I’ll feel a lot better if I’m not leaving you home alone watching the Notebook, again.” That part isn’t a lie. Leaving my mother alone does make me feel guilty. She and I are supposed to be in this together. We came here together and we should be acclimating together. If I make friends and start dating and leave her alone like an old spinster am I any different than my father was? Moving on to bigger and better things, happy to leave us behind.

  “If you’re sure,” she says. A smile crosses her lips and she climbs out of the car. I don’t miss the excitement in each step as she practically runs into the house.

  Inside, she pulls out her computer and has hotel and spa reservations booked in minutes. Then we climb the stairs and I fall back on her bed while she packs.

  “Can I ask you something?” I say, rolling over onto my stomach and propping my chin on my palm.

  “Of course,” Mom says, peeking out of the closet curiously.

  “Did you mean what you said at breakfast? Do you really think Grandmom and Pop would invite us to a charity event just to set me up with someone?” I ask hesitantly.

  Mom sighs. “Honestly, Amelia, I don’t know anymore. I think you were right, at least partially. It’s so much easier for me to see them for what they used to be. The kind of people who pulled the strings behind the scenes to keep everyone in line, everything under control while keeping face. But I don’t think that’s who they are anymore. We barely spoke for years before you’re father and I divorced, maybe something happened during that time that really changed them. I don’t know if I’ll ever know for sure,” she says with a shrug.

  I nod my head. I don’t really remember much about them from before, but I hope Mom’s right. I hope they’re different now, whatever the reason for that might be.

  Twenty minutes later we’re standing by the door. Mom has an overnight bag slung over her shoulder and she’s texting me the information for the hotel and her spa schedule.

  “Mom, I’ll be fine. The house will be in one piece when you get back. You have nothing to worry about.”

  “What about the dog?” she asks.

  I shake my head, wide eyes focused on her. “What dog?” I ask.

  Her mouth drops and I erupt into laughter, unable to hold my straight face anymore.

  She slaps a hand over her heart. “You’re not funny,” she says, shaking her head as she turns and pulls the door wide.

  “Have fun,” I call after her, bending down to scoop Ginger up as she slowly waddles toward the door.

  I watch her car back out of the driveway and then I pull out my phone to check the time. It’s one o’clock. I can see that I have messages from Oliver, but I’ve stopped opening them. What’s the point? I also have a message from Robin.

  Robin: Want to hang out tonight?

  Me: What did you have in mind?

  Robin: A party

  Me: In a field?

  Robin: A house party

  Me: I’m in

  Robin: I’ll text address. Starts at 10

  I have no plans now that my mother has abandoned me in favor of much-needed self-care. But the humidity is out of control today so I would have passed on another backwoods gathering, no offense or anything. Also, now that small lie I told my mother earlier isn’t even a lie. All's right with the world.

  I turn on the coffee machine and stuff in a pod of blueberry flavored coffee which seems to be the only kind we have. That’s kind of weird, right? Who even drinks that? I guess I do. When the machine hisses and the dripping stops I pull my mug toward me. The roasted bean flavor I love is missing. Replaced by the smell of warm blueberries. Am I really this desperate for coffee? I let out a heavy sigh. I am. I pour it over a glass of ice, add in some sugar and cream and stare at it for a second before I start chugging. It’s not awful, but it’s closer to pie than coffee and that doesn’t sit well with me.

  ***

  Around eight I climb into the shower and quickly scrub away the laziness of my day. I blow dry my hair and brush on some light makeup before lining my eyes and applying a few dark coats of mascara. I have no idea what kind of house party this is, or even whose house the party is in so I decide to keep things simple. I slip into a pair of white shorts and a black v-neck t-shirt and grab my teal blue low top Chucks off the floor. My phone buzzes and a new message from Robin pops up, the address she promised to send over with a smiley face emoji. I let Ginger out and snap a picture to send Mom. I caption it “Is this the dog I’m supposed to take care of?” A few seconds later my phone vibrates in my back pocket.

  Mom: You’re hilarious. You better not be staying in…

  I respond with what I think is an adorable selfie that I also immediately post to Instagram.

  Mom: Have fun. Call a cab if you need one.

  Me: You too!

  She sends a picture of a king-size bed covered with room service in response.

  I sling my crossbody over my shoulder and grab my keys off the hook, checking to make sure I have my phone, wallet, and Altoids- the essentials.

  DingDong

  DingDong

  DingDong

  It’s startling, given my proximity, but also, I didn’t even know we had a doorbell. I pull the door open and my stomach begins to flutter as soon as my eyes meet Fin’s. Then I realize that this is kind of awkward. This morning I told him I was going to stay in and hang out with my mom, which was the truth at the time. I don’t have his number, and honestly, it didn’t occur to me to let him know that my plans had changed. But now, staring back at his ridiculously hot stubbled face the thought should have crossed my mind. His brow creases as he eyes me from head to toe.

&n
bsp; “This isn’t what it looks like,” I say, realizing I’ve chosen yet another cheesy overused rom-com line.

  “It looks like you’re going out,” he says, flicking his wrist and looking down at his watch. “At nine-thirty. Without your mom,” he adds, looking over my shoulder.

  “Ok, fine. It’s exactly what it looks like, but this morning when we talked it wasn’t like this.” I feel my forehead crinkle at my own words. That didn’t make any sense at all. I comb my fingers through my hair. “My mom decided to get away for the night, and then Robin texted me.” I shift my eyes. I shouldn’t feel bad or awkward. Plans change. When he asked me my plans this morning they were just different than they are now. Also, he’s the one who wants to keep our interest in each other a secret, it’s not like I could have asked around for his number without telling people why or seeming like a creep.

  Fin nods his head, silently staring at me.

  “What are you doing here anyway?” I ask.

  He holds up my jean jacket and hands it to me. “Sorry again, about the coffee.”

  “That’s alright. You did get me another, that counts even if I didn’t get to drink it all.” I smile, looking up into his dark eyes.

  “Do you want to blow this party off?” he asks, smirking and never breaking eye contact.

  The idea of being alone with him, without interruptions makes my stomach do somersaults and my heart race. He’s hot, and I know we have chemistry. I can feel the electricity between us and the spark when we kiss is enough to set a fire I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to put out. That’s the problem. I don’t trust myself around him, and I’m not ready to take things to the next level with a guy who isn’t even willing to tell people he likes me. Call me old fashioned, but personally, I’m not into sleeping with guys that can’t tell me where we stand. Unfortunately, I know my heart, and most of my body is feeling flexible about that rule whenever Fin is within six feet of me and that will be a problem if we go inside and watch a movie together.

  “I wouldn’t feel right,” I say scrunching up my nose. “I told Robin I’d be there. I should go, at least for a little while.”

  “Alright. I’ll drive,” Fin says.

  “Won’t that draw attention to this?” I ask, gesturing at the space between us. “If you want to keep this casual, or a secret or whatever, showing up at parties together probably isn’t the best idea.” I expect him to argue. To tell me that’s his problem, the way he did when he asked me out. But he doesn’t, and my stomach sinks slightly.

  “You’re right. I’ll see you there,” he says, leaning down and brushing his warm lips against mine before strolling back to his car. Jeans and a t-shirt have never looked so hot. Not that I can remember anyway.

  I climb behind the wheel of my Jeep and set up my GPS before starting the engine and shifting into drive.

  ***

  It turns out I didn’t even need my GPS directions to get here. Fin was in front of me the whole time, and while I left them on the whole time just in case, all the navigation really did was interrupt my music every two minutes. He doesn’t wait for me to get out of the car. Instead, he walks past me without a single glance on his way into the brick rancher I’m parked in front of. He doesn’t even knock. In turn, I do the only civilized thing I can think of.

  Me: I’m here. Should I just come in?

  Robin: I’ll meet you at the door.

  Robin opens the front door and I climb out of my car with my keys and phone. I don’t see why I would need my bag and I don’t want to forget it, so I leave it behind, wedged under my seat like Mom taught me back in New York.

  Once inside she leads me toward the hooting and hollering coming from the basement. As soon as I’m halfway down the stairs and the open room comes into view I can see that this party is the same group of people as the last one. Mia and Savannah wave from the sofa where they’re sitting on their boyfriend’s laps, facing each other and having a hushed conversation that requires very animated hand gestures. They could be arguing, I’m not sure, but it’s a very passionate discussion.

  “I’m so glad you came,” Robin whispers, ducking her mouth toward my ear. “They’ve been bickering since they got here and Cooper and James are so high I don’t even think they know they’re here.”

  “Oh. Wow,” I say, stealing a glance at the happy couples. Sure enough, the guys are staring straight ahead with heavy bloodshot eyes while their girlfriends continue to argue literally on top of them.

  “What about Hunter and Liam?” I ask.

  “What about them?”

  “Well, we played some drinking games last time. They were pretty fun. Let’s see if they want to get a game together,” I suggest.

  “I don’t know,” Robin says, looking toward the opposite corner of the room where Liam and Hunter are huddled together chuckling at something on their phones. I allow my eyes to stray for a second, scanning Fin’s body unapologetically. Our eyes meet briefly but he looks away. Redirecting his attention toward his buddies.

  “They aren’t arguing and they don’t look high. Why do you invite them if you’re never going to talk to them anyway?”

  “I didn’t invite them,” she says, scrunching her forehead like it’s completely normal for uninvited guests to show up to a party in your basement.

  “Let’s go,” I laugh, steering her toward the opposite side of the room by her shoulders.

  “Hey guys,” I call out, intentionally directing my words toward Liam and Hunter. I’m not being catty and I’m not playing hard to get. If Fin wants to act like he doesn’t even know me when we’re around his friends I can give a mean cold shoulder. Even if it is a fake one.

  “Hey Kat!” Hunter says, giving me a side hug with the arm his phone is in.”What’re you doing here?”

  “Robin invited me.” I smile, stealing a peek at his phone. I wish I could say I’m surprised, but I’m not. The goofy grins and giggles from a few minutes ago make perfect sense when paired with the half-naked woman on his screen.

  “Nice,” I joke, pointing at his phone. His cheeks turn bright red and he minimizes the window.

  "We were just talking about what we look for in a girl," he says, sliding the phone into his pocket.

  "Half-naked was high up there on the list?" I smirk. Liam snorts out a laugh and Hunter’s face turns a deeper shade of red.

  "Well Liam let's have it. Who's your dream woman," I ask, pushing onto my toes and peering at his screen. He pushes the button on the side and it turns black before he slips it into his jeans.

  I laugh. "No? What about you, Fin, care to share?" I ask. I hope I'm pushing his buttons, if he wants me to treat him the same as everyone else then this is what he gets. He shakes his head and leans toward a shelf, pulling a bottle of gin down.

  "Is this yours?" he asks Robin, ignoring me completely. I smirk and my eyes dart between them. His attempt to avoid me would be kind of cute if it wasn’t annoying. There is definitely some middle ground between telling people we’re hooking up and pretending I don’t exist.

  “Yeah, I picked it up to make highballs,” she says, crinkling her nose.”Turns out I’m not fancy like that. I’ll stick with beer.”

  Fin unscrews the cap and sniffs the bottle. “I hate this stuff,” he says, screwing the cap back on.

  I smile and reach for the bottle, Our fingers brush and I look up into his eyes for a split second before I step away, bottle in hand. “I don’t,” I say, twisting the cap and taking a swig. There’s just something about gin that I appreciate. It’s harsh and fresh at the same time. It doesn’t try to hide behind fruity flavors and sugar. It’s honest and upfront. You know it’ll kick your ass the morning after, but you keep drinking it anyway. I take another sip and look around at the four sets of eyes glued to me.

  “What?” I laugh. “I’m from New York, remember? Every house party had a bottle of gin floating around.”

  Robin giggles and pats me on the shoulder then she turns to Liam and Hunter. “Will you guys help m
e bring down the card table for beer pong?”

  I swear their eyes light up before they both nod and the three of them head up the stairs. I turn my attention toward Mia and Savannah. Call me crazy, but their brand of drama reminds me of home. I raise the bottle to my lips and take a short sip, holding it by the neck at my waist.

  “Did you drink a lot back home Amelia?” Fin asks quietly.

  I tilt my head slightly, sparing him a sidelong glance. The last thing Mr. Secret-Keeper should be doing right now is judging me. “Are you talking to me now?”

  He exhales, scrubbing a palm down his face.

  “And it’s Kat,” I say, walking toward the stairs where Robin and the guys are awkwardly lugging a folding table into the basement.

  They set up the table and Robin fills the cups with water. She ignores the boy’s protests, insisting that too much beer has been spilled on the floor in the past.

  “What’s the difference? Just drink a can of beer while you play,” she says.

  That’s fine with me because I’m bonding with this bottle of gin. A can of beer doesn’t interest me tonight.

  “I want to play,” I announce. “I’m not very good, but my team spirit is unmatched. Who will have me?”

  Hunter laughs from one end of the table where he’s racking cups.

  “You can be on my team,” he says without looking up.

  Robin finishes setting up the cups at her end and looks around. Liam is nowhere to be found and the double date happening on the couch doesn’t seem to be interested.

  “I’ll play,” Fin says. He grabs a can of beer and pours it into a plastic cup before stepping up to the table beside Robin. I smile. I was hoping he would play. I might not have played a lot of beer pong back home, but I played more than I let on and I’m really not half bad.

  Fin and Hunter each toss a ball at the others racked cups. Fin’s lands in the first cup, Hunter’s hits Robin in the boob. I bite my lip to stifle a laugh, as his cheeks flush. I roll the ball to the opposite end of the table, Fin hits the edge of one of the back cups, missing the shot. Robin sinks hers into one of the two front cups. Our turn. Hunter bounces a ball off the middle of the table and it lands in one of the center cups, they pull two cups off the table and each take a long sip from their own drinking cup. My attention isn’t on the table. I take a quick look at the back row of cups, then shift my eyes up to Robin and then Fin. I narrow my eyes, focusing on the cup in Fin’s hand and then I take the shot. The ball sinks into his beer.