Love Me, Love Me Not Page 6

  “Did you just call me hot?” he asks, lowering his elbows on the table and leaning closer. His eyes twinkle, and his dimple has never been bigger as he smiles at me, clearly enjoying my momentarily lapse in judgment.

  I roll my eyes. “That’s what girls at school were saying, not me,” I lie as my cheeks heat up yet again.

  “You don’t think I’m hot?”

  “I’ve kind of had a lot on my mind lately. No time to really think about the hotness level of my foster brother,” I say, trying to play it cool.

  He grins again and says, “I’m not rich. My parents are.”

  “Same thing,” I reply with a wave of my hand.

  “So, you’re not a virgin?” he asks, laying the word out there since I obviously can’t.

  My reaction is immediate. My already pink cheeks darken to crimson, and I lower my eyes to the tabletop, too embarrassed to even look at him.

  “Your decision?” he asks.

  “What?” I say, momentarily meeting his eyes before glancing down again. “Of course it was my decision. He’s my boyfriend. I … love him.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” I say quietly, focusing back on the family, which is now mopping up the pool of ice cream on the table.

  “Okay. Just remember, if I ever need to kick his ass, I’m happy to.” I glance back to him. He’s smiling, but his eyes are as intense as they were in the weight room this morning. It’s almost like he wants me to ask him to do it.

  Did Adam tell him what happened at the game? Does he know Chase is the one who slashed his tires? I have a feeling a meeting between the two of them would not end well, which is all the more reason to keep Chase happy.

  CHAPTER 8

  After our trip to the mall, I’m happy to have a little time to myself. Brad is friendly and nice, but way too easy to talk to. My face turns to a tomato just sitting here thinking about the things I’ve told him. My mom. Chase. Sex. Groaning, I rest my head in my hands. What is wrong with me all of a sudden? Why can’t I seem to keep my mouth shut around him?

  Other than dinner, I’ve spent the last three hours in my room trying to outline a story for my creative-writing class and attempting geometry proofs, but my brain isn’t cooperating. I’d rather obsess over Brad—both what he now knows of me and the surprising things I’ve learned about him. He’s the star of the football team and probably one of the most popular guys at school, but has never had a girlfriend? Really? How is that possible?

  “Hailey, everyone’s here!” Brad’s voice echoes through the hallway outside my door.

  Right. Movie night with his friends.

  I appreciate them including me, but spending a whole night with Michelle judging me sounds about as fun as my visit to the health department yesterday morning. Luckily, Brad offered to invite Brittany, probably because he thinks we’re close friends. Better that than the truth. At least now there’s someone else new here to take the attention off me.

  I leave the safety of my new room and catch a view of Brad’s butt as he rushes down the stairs. I’ve been catching way too much of his backside today. First in the weight room and then at the mall, when he leaned over a rack trying to find a sweater for his mom. Not to mention when we got back and he decided to mow the lawn directly outside my window. Without his shirt. Again. The boy has a serious problem keeping his clothes on. And I have a serious problem ignoring him when he’s not fully clothed.

  I need to get a grip. Brad is off-limits for many reasons.

  Maybe I can just secretly ogle him and hope, someday in the distant future when I’m finally free of Chase, I might find someone half as nice and cute. A girl can dream, at least.

  When I get downstairs, Brittany engulfs me in a hug like we’re best friends. It’s unexpected, but it does make the glare I receive from Michelle sting a little less.

  “Hey, Hailey,” Abbie says from behind the edge of the refrigerator door. “Soda?”

  “No, thanks. I’m good.”

  Brad is busy in the kitchen, microwaving popcorn. Michelle walks over to him and stands uncomfortably close while he tries to move between the cupboard and the microwave.

  “Action or blood and guts?” Adam asks, holding up two movies.

  “Action,” Brittany, Abbie, and Brad say.

  Michelle pouts. “I was going to vote blood and guts.”

  Adam says, “I vote action, so you’re outnumbered. Better luck next time.” He’s smiling the whole time and says it in a friendly way, but Michelle still gives him a dirty look. At least I’m not the only one receiving those.

  While Adam starts up the movie, we settle ourselves onto the ridiculously large sofa. Brittany and I take one end, with Abbie close by. Adam takes the middle and Brad sits next to him, stretching his legs out to the end. Michelle eyes all our positions and then squeezes herself between Brad and Adam, even though there is much more room other places.

  “I like your shirt,” Abbie says, passing the popcorn bowl to me.

  “Oh, thanks,” I reply, my face heating up. No one has ever complimented my clothes before. Not that these are my clothes, but still. I take a handful of popcorn and pass the bowl back to her.

  “So, how’s foster life treating you?” Brittany whispers to me, as the others talk about someone from school.

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “Are the Campbells as great as they seem?”

  “Yes.”

  “Please tell me you uncovered something crazy about Brad,” Brittany whispers with a devious smile. “He’s too perfect. He has to be hiding something epic.”

  I laugh, wondering if she’s right. He and his parents do seem perfect.

  “Any girly underwear in his dresser drawers?” she asks.

  “I wouldn’t know,” I reply with a smile.

  “Any crack hidden under his bed?”

  “I doubt it.” Crackheads I can identify from a mile away. I hate that I have that skill, but it comes with the territory when you grow up where I did. It’s essential for survival, really.

  “Any STD meds in his bathroom?”

  “Brittany!” I whisper. I can’t believe she’d even suggest that. What if he heard her?

  “So that’s a no?”

  “Yes, that’s a no.” At least it seems like it’d be a no based on what he told me at the mall.

  “A third nipple?”

  I give her a look to let her know how crazy she sounds right now. “No, he doesn’t have a third nipple.”

  “You know for sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve seen him without his shirt?”

  I nod as I bite my lip and try to hide the smile I seem to have no control over.

  “Yum.”

  “Oh my God. Be quiet!” I whisper.

  After a moment, she whispers, “You like him.”

  “Sure. He’s nice.”

  “That’s not what I mean.” She nudges me with her elbow and then catches my eye.

  He is nice. The nicest guy I’ve ever met. But I can’t like him in the way she’s thinking.

  When I don’t respond, she whispers, “You could do a lot worse.”

  I have done worse, much worse.

  Chase and Brad are complete opposites. It’s like my mom’s Frito-and-hot-dog casserole compared with Gigi’s chicken cordon bleu we had for dinner tonight. My mom didn’t cook much, but her casserole was always one of my favorites. I just never knew any better until now.

  That’s the same thing with Chase. I always thought he was pretty good, but that’s just because I didn’t know any better. He saved me from my mom, which, at the time, was all that mattered. Now I’m seeing the complete jerk he can be when he doesn’t get his way.

  And I’m getting a glimpse into who else is out there.

  Brad actually seemed to take an interest in me today, asking me questions to get to know me. Chase has never done that. Then again, we grew up together, so what did he have to ask? He knows everything about me.

  At
least he did until I was placed here, where he can’t keep an eye on me.

  Oh my God. I completely forgot to call him tonight. He’s going to freak on me.

  I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s still early. I could excuse myself for a few minutes, but Gil was sitting in the library reading when I passed by a little while ago. I don’t know of another phone, and I don’t want to talk to Chase in front of him. I decide to wait until after the movie to call. It’s a Saturday night, so he’s probably out getting blitzed anyway. He’s got better things to think about than what I’m doing.

  An explosion in the movie draws me out of my thoughts to focus on the people around me. The guys are mesmerized by the fight scene. Abbie and Brittany are on their phones, their fingers moving at lightning speed. Michelle’s been inching closer and closer to Brad every minute that passes. He doesn’t seem to notice, though. Instead, he hollers whenever something blows up and then dissects the scene with Adam.

  The two of them couldn’t look any more different. Besides their skin color, Brad’s big with bulky muscles while Adam’s only a little taller than me. He’s plenty built, too, but his muscles don’t stretch his shirt like Brad’s do.

  One thing that’s similar is their clothes. Like Brad, Adam and Abbie clearly have money. It’s not like they’re dressed up in fancy outfits, but I can tell their jeans and tops are not from Goodwill or Walmart, where I’m lucky to shop. The materials look softer and the clothes fit better, almost like they were custom made for them.

  From my angle, I see Michelle from the side. She’s got a pointy nose and chin. Her blond hair falls in curls over her shoulders, and her eyes are made up with smoky lids and black-as-night eyeliner, like she’s attending a red-carpet event. The makeup, her short skirt, and tight sweater all seem a bit much just to watch a movie.

  Brad must sense my gaze because he turns his head and lifts his chin at me. I focus back on the movie, but not before I catch his smile. It seems real and genuine, like he’s happy I’m here.

  “I’m cold,” Michelle says. I glance back in their direction and see her inching even closer to him.

  “Grab a blanket,” he says, not taking his eyes off me.

  Michelle stands, frowning, and then walks around the back of the sofa.

  “You okay?” he mouths to me.

  I nod, just as Michelle returns. She lowers herself practically on his lap and then spreads the blanket over the two of them. I can’t tell for sure, but it seems like her hands may be roaming up and down his leg under the blanket. From the expression on his face, he doesn’t seem to even notice. He’s still got his eyes on me, despite Michelle’s best efforts.

  I can’t look at them anymore. It’s painful. I tell myself that’s because she’s trying to get the attention of someone who’s clearly not interested, but I worry that might not be the only reason. For the rest of the movie, I keep my eyes plastered to the screen, so I don’t have to see them again.

  During the final chase scene, in between the explosions and roaring engines, a soft tap-tap comes from someplace other than the speakers. We all look around the room.

  “You expecting anyone else, man?” Adam asks.

  “No.” Brad stands up and turns on the light.

  Adam pushes himself off the sofa, picks up two pool cues, and then tosses one to Brad. They hold them like baseball bats as they march toward the sliding glass door, which puts me on edge. The other girls must agree, because they scoot closer together.

  Tap-tap.

  “What is that?” Michelle asks, craning her neck to try to see around the boys, but it’s useless. It’s a curtain of black outside.

  “The wind?” Abbie suggests.

  “That’s not the sound the wind makes,” Brittany says.

  “Maybe it’s causing a tree branch to hit the glass,” Abbie says.

  Brittany turns and faces her. “Are there any trees right next to the glass?”

  “No, not really…”

  Tap-tap.

  As the girls continue to argue over the source of the sound, the boys peer out the door.

  “Oh hell,” Brad groans.

  CHAPTER 9

  Brad flips on the outside light so everyone can see who’s there.

  Chase.

  My stomach drops and my palms grow clammy at just the sight of him. I should’ve called.

  “You gonna let him in?” Adam asks.

  “I’m not sure,” Brad replies.

  “Who is that?” Michelle asks.

  “It’s for me,” I say quietly, and slide off the sofa. I need to get him out of here quickly before he can majorly screw something up.

  When I get to the glass, Brad holds my arm. “You’re not going out there alone,” he says.

  I glance down to his hand on my arm. It’s warm and strong and gives me a sense of safety I’ve never felt in my life. Despite that or maybe because of that, I unwrap myself from his grip and say, “I’ll be fine. That’s Chase … my boyfriend.”

  Brad doesn’t seem at all surprised, which is odd. It’s almost like he already knew. “He can come in,” Brad says, opening the sliding door. To Chase, he adds, “Don’t be a dick.”

  “Calm down, bro,” Chase says, sauntering through the door like he owns the place. I’ve seen this attitude from him before, and the situation usually ends up with fists being thrown. I cannot let that happen here.

  “I’m not your bro,” Brad replies through clenched teeth, which makes me cringe. I get the feeling he’d be just as happy to fight.

  “Why are you here?” I ask, dragging Chase across the room to put a little space between him and Brad.

  “You didn’t call tonight.”

  Ugh. I should’ve called before the movie. What was I thinking? Oh right, I was thinking about Brad while trying to do my geometry homework. That’s exactly what Chase is worried about.

  “I figured you’d be busy this early,” I lie. “I was going to call in a couple hours.”

  “Or maybe you were too busy with your new friends,” Chase says. The scowl he gives me hurts as much as a slap to the face. He doesn’t buy my story one bit. It’s like he knows exactly what I was thinking about Brad earlier today.

  Chase’s scowl transforms to a smirk as he glances at Brad across the room.

  I follow his gaze to find everyone watching us with wide eyes and gaping mouths. I feel the heat rising in my cheeks. I so don’t want all these strangers getting a front-row seat at the drama that is my messed-up life.

  Grabbing Chase’s hand, I lead him around the corner and into the hallway.

  “You can’t stay here,” I say.

  “Your mom wants to see you.”

  Those words cause my heart rate to spike. “No.” I can’t see her. She’ll blame me for getting taken away and I’ll have to deal with all her crap.

  “It’s done. She already talked to Sherry.”

  I slump against the wall. Why would Sherry do that? She knows what will happen if we see each other again.

  “Let’s join the party,” Chase says, tilting his head toward the other room.

  “You can’t stay here,” I whisper again.

  “Why not?”

  “Come on, Chase. Don’t get me kicked out of here tonight. I told you I’ll come see you once I’m settled.”

  “I’ll be a good little boy,” he says with a wicked smile that makes it clear he absolutely will not be good.

  “Chase…”

  “What? If you’re not fucking him, then you shouldn’t care if I stay.”

  “Oh my God. There’s nothing going on.”

  “Prove it.”

  I close my eyes and knock the back of my head against the wall.

  “Stop acting like a spoiled princess,” he says.

  Taking a deep breath, I slowly open my eyes. “You’re not going to start anything?”

  “No.”

  “You promise?”

  “Yeah.”

  I can’t believe I’m letting him do this, but if
I don’t, it could be worse. He’ll cause a huge scene and confront Brad about sleeping with me, which would be mortifying.

  When we return to the group, I say, “Can Chase stay for the next movie?”

  “Is that what you want?” Brad asks.

  I nod but can’t meet his eyes.

  “The more the merrier,” Adam says. “Help yourself to a Coke in the fridge.”

  Chase strolls over to the kitchen area and raids the refrigerator and pantry like he’s stockpiling for the end of the world. He’s got two ice cream bars, Twizzlers, Doritos, and a Slim Jim piled into his arms. Then he lowers himself onto the couch next to me, setting his bounty on his lap. I look straight ahead so I won’t have to see the stares I’m sure he’s getting from everyone else.

  It’s eerily silent for a few moments, and then Brittany says, “’Sup?” I glance in her direction and find her raising her chin in greeting to Chase. Abbie and Michelle have moved as far away from him as possible, making it clear how uneasy they are with him.

  Chase reaches into his pocket and pulls out a plastic bag with weed. “Anyone want some?” he asks. I close my eyes and lean my head against the back of the couch. This night will not be over soon enough.

  “You can’t smoke that here,” Brad says.

  Chase shrugs and pockets the weed before extending his arm over my shoulders, pulling me much closer than I want.

  “So,” Brittany says, trying to break the tension. “You up for a gory movie?”

  “Always,” Chase says.

  We start the movie, but I can’t get into it. I’m worried about Chase and what the others must think. He stuffs his face for the first half of the movie, and then, when the food is gone, he starts touching me. It started off innocently enough with his hand on my knee, but now his hand keeps moving farther and farther up my thigh.

  I lean over and whisper in his ear, “Not here. Later.”

  That satisfies him for about fifteen minutes, until he abruptly stands and pulls me up by my arms. “You got a place we can be alone?” he asks Brad.

  My face goes up in flames, and I can only imagine what Brad’s thinking.

  Confirming my thoughts, he stands and replies, “No. I think it’s time for you to leave.” He flexes his fingers a few times, and I get a terrible sinking feeling in my gut.