Love Me, Love Me Not Page 5
“She’s been living with someone else since she was born.”
“Who?”
I shrug.
“You don’t know?”
“She was kind of adopted as a baby.”
“That doesn’t seem hard to explain. Adoptions happen all the time.”
“I don’t think it was totally legal.”
“Oooh,” he says, drawing out the word. He takes a drink of Gatorade. “Actually, I don’t understand. Your mom gave her baby away to someone?”
I nod. I don’t want to get into the specifics. Knowing my mom sold her baby will just make me seem like even more of a loser compared with him and his perfect life. I always hold out hope someone threatened her and that’s why she did it.
“How long ago?”
“Ten years.” That was when things really started to go downhill. Until then, my mom was able to keep things mostly okay. Sure, we never had three-course meals, but we usually got at least two decent meals a day. That’s also when she started using more regularly.
Brad stuffs the rest of his lunch into his mouth. After a couple minutes of silence, he swallows and asks, “What about your dad? What’s his story?”
“No idea.”
“Not part of your life?”
I push crumbs around my plate. “He was more of a temporary sperm donor.”
“You’re a test-tube baby?”
“What?” My head jerks up to see him studying me. “No,” I say, “more like a casualty of my mom’s revolving door of boyfriends.”
“Oh shit,” he replies.
I look away. “I don’t need your pity.”
“It’s not pity. Anyone with half a heart … a quarter of a heart … hell, an eighth of a heart would feel bad.”
“That’s pity.”
“Yeah, maybe it is,” he agrees. Pushing against the counter, he hauls himself up and sits facing me. “Sorry, but come on. No kid should have to deal with that kind of shit.”
“Okay, you can stop right there,” I say, holding up my hand. “I’m fine. It’s life. Some of us are dealt a good hand”—I motion around the room—“while others are dealt a crappy hand. Nothing I can do about it other than try to make the best of a bad situation.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He gathers both our plates and sets them in the sink. “Want to go to the mall today?”
“The mall?” I ask, surprised by his change of topic.
“Yeah. It’s Mom’s birthday next week, and I need to get her something.”
“Um … okay. I guess so.” It’s not like I have anything else to do.
The squeak of a door interrupts us, followed by a thud and jingling of keys. Seconds later, Gigi and Gil enter the kitchen.
“All fixed,” Gil says, tossing Brad the keys.
Brad snatches them out of the air. “Thanks.”
“You’re sure it didn’t happen at the game?” Gil asks.
“Positive. I would have noticed, plus the rims would’ve been damaged if I had driven home like that.”
Gil sighs. “You’re right. I just don’t like the idea of someone breaking into our garage and slashing your tires.”
No. No, no, no, no.
My fists clench at my sides, and my nails dig into my palms. It couldn’t be Chase. He wouldn’t do that, would he?
Normally, I’d say no, but after the last few days … I wouldn’t put it past him. How would he even get here, though? Did he follow us home last night?
“What happened?” I ask, hoping my voice doesn’t reveal how nervous I am.
“It looks like someone got into our garage and specifically targeted Brad’s car. The others were fine.”
“Did they steal anything?” I ask.
“I don’t think so,” Gil says, then pauses. “Well, I don’t know. We haven’t checked.”
“Shit,” Brad says. “I left my iPad in there last night.”
He runs out of the room, and Gil shakes his head. “Don’t worry, Hailey. This is a safe neighborhood. Nothing like this has ever happened before.”
Until I came along, I think. I always bring trouble with me. Should I tell them? Probably. Will they kick me out if I do? Yeah.
Maybe this was a onetime thing. Maybe he did this as a warning because I walked off with Adam. I should’ve talked to him last night. Told him I’d find a way to see him, just not here at their house.
“I need to make a call,” I say urgently. “Do you have a phone I can use?”
CHAPTER 7
“Hey, Chase. It’s me,” I say when he answers. My voice is calm, but my eyes narrow at the person on the other end of the line. Messing with Brad’s car is a new low for him; one that even I didn’t expect.
“Yeah?”
“Did you follow me last night?”
“Maybe.”
He did. I was hoping there was some other explanation for what happened, but I guess deep down I knew there wouldn’t be. I curl and uncurl my fist, trying to keep my voice even. “You can’t do that,” I say.
“I can do whatever the hell I wanna do.”
“Please,” I beg, taking a different approach. “I appreciate what you’re trying, but I don’t want to get kicked out of here. I need this. I need a normal family for a while. If you can just leave me alone until I’m settled, I promise we can meet up again. I’ll get to Carthage, or we can meet halfway. Please.”
It’s quiet for a moment and then he says, “You know who you belong to, right?”
My mouth drops at his words and then tears well up in my eyes. He’s never asked me that before, but I’ve heard Mattie, my mom’s boyfriend, say it to her plenty. I respond like she does every time, “You. I’m yours. Forever. You know that.”
“Did you fuck him?”
“No,” I say as the tears start rolling down my cheeks. Does he mean Adam? Or did he see Brad last night? I guess it doesn’t really matter who he’s jealous of. I just can’t believe he’d honestly think I’d go around sleeping with random people. “I would never do that. I don’t even like him that way.”
“Good. If you lay a finger on him, I’ll know. I’m watching you.”
More tears fall onto my cheeks. “I know. I won’t. I promise.”
“You gonna call me?”
Wiping my face, I reply, “Yes, once I’m settled and things calm down, I’ll call you a couple times a week.”
“Make it every night, starting tonight.”
Then, without so much as a good-bye, the line goes dead.
I put the phone back in my pocket and take a shaky breath.
It’s Chase, the Chase I’ve known almost my entire life, but I’m 100 percent freaked out by him right now. This is a whole new level for him. What comes after a tire slashing? I have no clue, but I also don’t want to find out.
I feel like I’m in one of the fun houses where you never know what’s around the corner. One night it could be nothing, but the next night it could be a crazed Chase who jumps Brad in a dark alley. And I’ll never know until it happens. Which means one thing …
Without warning, the flood gates open.
I have to call him every night. I have to truly convince him I’m his forever.
That’s what it comes down to. I’m ready to be done with him and that part of my life, but I can’t. I’m stuck. There’s no way out.
I’m never going to escape my past. The Campbells and their house are a nice distraction, but that’s all it is. Sooner or later, I’ll be back where I belong, lying next to Chase in the trailer park where I’ll need him again.
I should’ve known that from the beginning. I should have never been lured in by what the Campbells have. It’s not mine, never has been, and never will be. I wipe my eyes one last time and shake my head at my ridiculous dreaming. Normal and family will never go together in my world.
When I open the door to Gil’s office, hoping to escape to my room without seeing anyone, I run straight into Brad.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
&nb
sp; “Yeah, sorry,” I say, dropping my gaze.
“What are you sorry for?”
“Um … crying in front of you, I guess.”
“You don’t have to apologize for that.”
“I don’t usually cry like this.”
Brad shrugs and then says, “So, the mall?”
I nod and reply, “Just let me change first.”
A few minutes later, after any evidence of my tears has been washed down the drain, we meet in the garage. I’m wearing jeans and a button-down shirt I found in my closet. The only external reminder of my past is the holey sneakers on my feet. Internally, it’s a completely different story after my call with Chase.
Brad opens the car door for me, which causes me to look at him out of the corner of my eye. Why would he do that? I’ve never had a guy do that for me before, and I’m not sure how I feel about him doing it.
“I was raised to be a Southern gentleman,” he says, walking around to the other side. After joining me inside, he adds, “Mom would kill me if I didn’t open doors for you.”
“That’s kind of…”
“Old-fashioned?” he asks, turning the key in the ignition.
“No.”
“Chauvinistic?”
“No.”
He opens the garage door and backs out. “Caveman-esque?”
“No, I was going to say sweet.”
“Oh,” he says, staring straight ahead with a small grin.
*
“An art book?” I suggest.
“She has every art book ever published,” Brad complains. We’ve been walking around the mall for an hour, and he doesn’t seem to have a clue what to get his mom.
“Some canvases and paints?”
“She doesn’t make art. She just buys it.”
“What else does she like to do?”
“I don’t know.…”
“She likes to watch you play football.”
“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t really help with a gift.”
“You could get her a life-size poster of you in your uniform,” I say with a half smile.
“Yeah, that wouldn’t be weird at all,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“Does she ever complain about going to games?”
“Not really.” He pauses. “Actually, when it was really cold last year, she complained there weren’t good enough gloves or enough coffee in the world to keep her hands from freezing.”
“How about gloves, then?”
“She has gloves.”
“Better gloves. Those obviously don’t work.”
“I guess we could see what they have. Let’s go to Dick’s.”
After a couple of turns, we enter a mega sports store that carries everything from fishing poles to tents to soccer balls. As we walk through the aisles, I run my fingers along all the fabrics, stopping at a blue fleece on the clearance rack. It’s the softest material I’ve ever felt. I bite my lip and reach down for the tag, glancing at it for only a second before letting it fall back in place. Five bucks. I don’t know why I even looked. It’s not like I have any money. My shoulders sag, and I continue down the aisle.
“You want this?” Brad asks to my back.
I turn around to see what he’s talking about, but immediately blush when I realize he’s holding the fleece.
“Have you gotten your clothing stipend yet?” he asks.
“No.”
“This is a really good deal.”
I shrug.
“You’ll probably get the money soon.”
Maybe, maybe not. One thing I’ve learned is not to count on anything. I shrug and continue down the aisle, running my hands over each item. I can appreciate them even if I’ll never own any of them.
“This is the clearance rack,” he says. “There’s a good chance it won’t be here when you come back.”
“Then it wasn’t meant to be,” I say without facing him.
“Or I can pay for it now, and you can pay me back later.”
“No,” I reply, turning around to face him while shaking my head. I already owe Adam ten bucks. I’m not going even more into debt over a silly fleece when Gigi has a closet with plenty of clothes for me.
“I don’t mind, really,” he says.
“I do.” I abruptly turn away from him.
He must take the hint because it’s quiet behind me. I walk past a few more clothing racks and then something catches my eye. “Hey, look at this,” I say. “It’s a hand warmer. Maybe this is what your mom needs.”
Brad joins me and picks up one of the small packages to study it. Then he also grabs a pair of gloves lying next to the display.
“Thanks. I think we’re done here,” he says.
A few minutes later, we’re back in the mall. “Do you want to go to the ice cream place?” he asks, looking at the food court across the way from us.
“Sure,” I reply. I’m not getting any, but I’ll sit with him while he eats it.
“What do you want?” he asks when we’re standing in front of the counter with countless flavors and toppings.
“Actually,” I say, looking down at my shoes, “I’m not hungry.”
He orders an extra-large hot fudge sundae and says, “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”
I shake my head.
When we sit down, he asks, “You don’t have some sort of eating disorder, do you?”
My eyes grow wide with his question. No one’s ever asked me that before. I always figured people thought I was skinny because I didn’t have a lot of food, not because I didn’t want to eat it.
“No,” I whisper, then study a family sitting at a table a few feet away.
“It’s the money, right?” Brad asks.
I nod but still won’t look at him.
“It’s only a couple bucks, Hailey. It’s really not a big deal.”
“To you,” I whisper, still focusing on the family. The little kid is now demanding to feed himself, which is leading to a huge mess. His face is covered in vanilla ice cream, and it drips from his chin onto the table below, forming a pool. I expect the parents to yell or take over, but they just sit there patiently while he proudly spoons ice cream into his mouth.
“Are you and your boyfriend serious?” Brad asks out of the blue.
His question breaks my focus on the little boy. Why is Brad interested in Chase? Does he know that’s who slashed his tires?
I cautiously turn to face him. “Why do you want to know?”
“Just wondering.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?” I ask.
“Nope. I haven’t found the right person yet.”
“Ever?”
“Nope.”
“You’ve never had a girlfriend?”
“Nope.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say, staring at him in disbelief. “You’re the star of the football team. You’re…” My face heats up, stopping me before I say something stupid about how hot he is. “Your family is loaded; you’re, like, the nicest person I’ve ever met; and you’ve never had a girlfriend?”
He swallows a bite of ice cream and gives me a huge smile, revealing his dimple. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“So, like, you’ve never…” I blush again and shake my head when I realize what an inappropriate question I was about to ask. “Never mind.”
“What?”
“It’s not important.”
“Your red cheeks make me really want to hear the end of that sentence.”
“It’s kind of personal.”
“I don’t mind personal.”
I think for a moment and then decide to go for something a little less inappropriate. “You’re seventeen and have never … kissed a girl?”
“Eighteen,” he replies with a smile. “And I didn’t say that. It’s a big jump from kissing on a date to having a girlfriend.”
“Do you want a girlfriend?”
“Someday. Eventually. Is your boyfriend all you dreamed he’d be?”
“He’s … okay.” At least he used to be okay. He was never Mr. Romantic, but he made me feel important in his own way.
“That doesn’t sound like a match made in heaven.”
“Every couple has issues.” And ours seem to be getting worse and worse.
“What are yours?”
“It’s personal.” There’s no way I’m getting into me and Chase with Brad.
“Hey, I answered your personal question! I just told you all about my experience with girls.”
“Kissing is all your experience?”
He shrugs and gives me another grin, which brings me right back to the original question I had for him. “You mean…?”
“Spit it out, Hailey,” he says with a smile, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head. “What do you want to know?”
I lean forward on my elbows, getting the best view of his face I’ve had since we met. He’s got a faint scar under his left eye. It runs all the way to his nose and makes him look kind of rugged, like someone who could just as easily survive in the wilderness as in his fancy house.
“You’re a … a…?” I whisper, still not able to say the word.
“A football player? Yes.”
“No, a…”
“Math nerd? Yes.”
“No—wait, really? You’re a math nerd?”
“Yes, why? Need help?”
“Maybe. With geometry.”
“Okay. It’s settled. Your foster brother is a math nerd who will tutor you.”
I roll my eyes and cross my arms. “Don’t make me say it.”
“Why?”
“I don’t have conversations like this, especially with guys I just met and whose houses I live in.”
“Then you’ll never know.”
“We both know what I’m talking about. Yes or no?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Am I a cat person or a dog person?” He grins. “A little of both, actually.”
I throw up my arms. Why is he being so difficult about this? “Fine,” I huff. “I don’t care.”
“But you do,” he says, pointing his spoon at me.
“I only care because you’re a walking contradiction.”
“What do you mean?” he asks, lowering his spoon and focusing on me.
“Rich, but generous. Smart, but popular. Friendly, but picky. Hot, but not a player.”