Sidekick Page 19

  She kisses me. For a second I can’t believe she did it. I figured she’d want to take the physical thing slow because I’m her first boyfriend. Then I realize she’s technically my first girlfriend. Huh. Her arms wrap around my neck, and then her mouth meets mine again.

  This is definitely her first kiss, but for some reason it’s better than any kiss I’ve ever had. It’s not just physical; it’s more. It fills me up in every way, makes me feel like I could explode with happiness. I never want to let go of her—she is not a girl you let go.

  “I need to get going,” she says after a while.

  “Don’t.” I kiss her forehead, her cheek, her neck.

  “Russ! Stop tempting me to stay.” She giggles. “Christmas break starts soon, so we’ll have plenty of time when I get away next.”

  She tries to get up, but I hold her tight, put my face to her neck and breathe her in. “No. Not enough.”

  “Being this late will be hard enough to explain.” She kisses me and then smiles. “But we’re doing that again.”

  “Fine by me.” I smile for her, though it kills me to watch her leave yet again.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Dad and I stand in the kitchen, picking at Christmas dinner leftovers while we wash dishes. As usual, James Taylor’s Christmas album plays in the background, but it can’t quite drown out the sound of anime night. Yes, it’s a major holiday, but anime night stops for nothing. After all the festivities, Izzy still manages to gather as many people as possible. Garret’s not here—he’s spent every Christmas break I can remember at his grandma’s in Minnesota—but Daphne is. We’re in the same house, yet in different rooms. I want to go in there and put my arms around her and ask her how her family party went. But Izzy would freak out, and I’d rather not get the parents involved in our drama. So far they haven’t noticed how little we talk lately.

  “So,” Dad says as he scrubs the roasting pan. “Not to put a damper on the holiday, but December is almost over and I believe we had a deal.”

  I sigh. “We did, didn’t we?”

  “Have you figured out what you want to do?”

  My throat tightens. Why is it so hard to tell him? Ever since Old Man Parker mentioned it, I haven’t been able to think of a better thing to do with the rest of my life. I gulp. “I have a confession to make.”

  “Okay…” Dad frowns. I can tell he’s terrified, as if I’m about to tell him I fathered a child or something.

  Spit it out. Fast. “I’ve been working at Parker’s Drive-In. Since October, actually.”

  His scruffy eyebrows arch. “But they don’t hire.”

  “I know.” I focus on drying the cookie sheet because I can’t look at him. “Trent got me in, kind of as an internship, and Old Man Parker liked me so much that he offered me a job. I…I really like working there.”

  It’s the first time I’ve ever said it out loud, and it feels surprisingly good.

  One side of Dad’s mouth curls. “Well, that’s pretty cool. Wish you would have told us so we didn’t think you were partying every night.”

  “I should have, but when you said you didn’t want me working a drive-thru window…” The comment stings, even now.

  He winces. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

  I nod.

  “Sorry, Russ.” He hands me the roasting pan, finally cleaned of greasy turkey bits. “I shouldn’t have said that. Working at Parker’s is amazing. Really.”

  I smile. “Thanks. I, uh, like it so much I’ve been thinking a lot about culinary school.”

  He stops and looks right at me. “Really?”

  I set down the pan. “I love to cook. Being a chef is the only thing I can see myself doing after high school, and the best way to get more training is a culinary arts school. With my experience at Parker’s, I could probably get a decent line job after I finish, maybe even work my way up to head chef. I don’t know, is that lame?”

  He doesn’t answer for a second. His green eyes, so much like my own, water. “Chef Russell Pearson. I like the sound of that.”

  He hugs me before I can reply and does that whole back pat thing. I let out the biggest sigh of relief. Maybe everything else in my life is a giant pile of rotting compost, but at least I finally know where I’m going. I can focus on that, hold on to my future in a way I never have before.

  After Dad and I finish the dishes, I rush up to my room. Just passing through the living room is torture, what with Daphne’s longing look, Izzy’s visible bristling, and Keira’s smug smile. So much for good feelings.

  I crank up the volume on my iPod, letting James Taylor drown out everything I’m missing down there. I’d never say it out loud, but James rules. Listening to him does make me feel better. Not great, just better. I close my eyes when the play list hits “Something In The Way She Moves,” picturing the last time Daphne came to Parker’s. Remembering kisses is nowhere near as good as actually kissing. I don’t have anything else, though.

  My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Dallas. Big New Year’s Party at my place. Starts at 8. U comin?

  Sure, I type. If I can’t spend it with Daphne, it’ll be better to be as far away from here as possible. I can’t sit here and listen to another holiday pass by without me.

  Sweet. Was starting to think u hated us.

  Family crap.

  Sucks for u.

  I laugh, thankful for the distraction. Sometimes being the popular me is a lot easier than being real. I can slip on that persona like a glove. I never noticed it before, the way I change depending on the people around me. But now that I do, I don’t know what to think. Which me is real? Or are they all real? My mind goes straight back to Izzy calling me a hypocrite. I don’t think I am. I just know how to fit in when I need to. Is that so bad?

  Before long, I doze off. My dreams are a mix of James singing “Shower The People” and everyone I know running away from me.

  Izzy is only five, her bright blue eyes shining as she laughs. I can’t catch up. Garret holds a football, calling me to come play. He walks off without me. Daphne revs her motorcycle, not even looking back at me as she goes. And then there’s Keira, laughing. She can catch the people I care about most, but I run and run and never get there. Then everything disappears and I’m surrounded by linebackers. There’s no opening, nowhere to run. They slam into me, and I jerk awake.

  It’s only then that I realize I’m not alone.

  Someone is playing with my hair. I’m sure I didn’t turn my light off, but it’s pitch black. When I feel lips on my neck, I’m finally coherent enough to realize what’s going on.

  “As sexy as this is, you better get downstairs, Daphne. Izzy will frea—”

  “Daphne?” a silky voice says. “Are you seriously doing Daphne?”

  I shoot up from my bed. This is a nightmare. It has to be. My dreams were just full of crap, so this has to be the next horrible vision. I turn on the light and there she is, with her messy blond bun and her cunning smile. I shake my head, close my eyes, and open them again. Shit, this is worse than a nightmare.

  “Keira,” I say through my teeth. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

  She frowns. “Garret’s gone and I have an itch to scratch. You and all your hotness are up here being wasted, so I thought we could finish what we started.”

  “Get off my bed. Out of my room.”

  She lies down. Great, now I’ll have to wash my sheets. “I don’t get you, Russ. I’m offering no-strings-attached sex here, and you want to throw me out? I didn’t peg you for a prude.”

  “Having principles makes me a prude? You’re asking me to help you cheat on Garret! It was bad enough when you were secretly playing both of us, and then you get him to hate me just so you can have Brig and whoever else you’re doing. There is no way in hell I’d sleep with you.” I point to the door. “So get out.”

  “Ugh!” She stands, furious, and paces in front of my bed. “What does a girl have to do to get laid? You don’t understand, Russ. It’s Chri
stmas break and they’re all gone. I. Need. Sex.”

  I stare at her, shocked. She looks like an addict pulling at her hair like that. For the smallest moment I feel sorry for her. She’s seriously messed up, but it’s not something I can help or want to fix.

  “It’s not happening, Keira. You’ll just have to wait for your harem to come back.”

  She lets out this frustrated squeal. “Damn it, Russ!”

  “Get out!” I wrench my door open and point to the hall, hoping she’ll finally get the picture.

  Her eyes go wide and then she laughs. “Hey, Daphne.”

  My stomach hits the floor. The air in the room is gone. I whirl around, hoping she’s playing one last evil prank.

  She isn’t.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  This can’t be happening. What did I do to deserve this? I was minding my own business, just trying to get through Christmas in one piece. Keira ruins everything. It’s like she’s out to personally destroy all of my happiness.

  Daphne’s glare locks on Keira. “You heard him. Get out.”

  Keira rolls her eyes, but heads for the door. “You know, if I were you I’d keep my mouth shut. Who knows what Izzy would do if she knew you were doing the enemy?”

  Keira disappears into the hall, her footsteps barely registering in the silence. Daphne puts her hands on her hips. She looks so angry I wonder if I might lose an arm. Or worse, she might break up with me. The landslide rushes down the hill right for me, and I have nowhere to run.

  “I’m sorry. I was sleeping and she just came in. I swear I didn’t—”

  She holds up her hand. “I know. She’s a total bitch. I heard her get up so I followed her.”

  I let out a sigh. “So you’re not mad at me?”

  She scoffs. “Oh, I’m pissed.”

  No. Why? My throat tightens. Before I can say anything she’s walking. I follow her into the hall and down the stairs. Izzy and Colin snore on the couch. Keira “sleeps” in the recliner. Daphne shoves her feet into her boots as she throws on her jacket.

  “Where are you going?” I whisper.

  “Home. I can scream as loud as I want there.” She wrenches the front door open, heading for her bike.

  I run after her, my bare feet pounding the cold ground. I grab her shoulder. “Wait!”

  She stops, shrugs my hand off. “What?”

  “What did I do? You know I would never cheat on you. Please, talk to me.” I feel like I’m about to break in two. All I know is she’s leaving, jetting away on her motorcycle, just like I dreamed.

  “When?” she says quietly.

  “What?”

  “When were you with her?”

  Oh shit. She heard that. “It was around Halloween, before I knew she and Garret were dating, before I realized how much I care about you.”

  “How long?”

  “Like a week, but I didn’t even see her every day. She was juggling at least three guys at that point. I would never have known if she hadn’t walked into Parker’s with Garret that one night. I swear, I broke it off the second I knew.” I force back my emotions. I never wanted to talk about this, not with anyone, but especially not with her.

  Daphne wraps her arms around herself. “Did you…have sex with her?”

  “No!” It sounds worse at every turn. “We kissed, that’s it, and I wish I could take it back. She made me a cheater—she made me betray my best friend—and I didn’t even know.”

  “So you lied to me that morning, when you said you never did anything about liking her.”

  Shame keeps the words in my mouth. It’s pointless to say I told her half the truth; that’s as good as a lie right now.

  “So when did you start liking me? After I cleaned up your puke?” Her voice cracks. I take a few steps forward, wanting to comfort her. But I stop because she looks like she might hurt me.

  “Before that.” I stuff my hands in my pajama pockets. It’s getting colder out here by the second. “I think it started the morning after I found out about them. It all seemed so shallow in comparison to what we had. Then I felt guilty for thinking about you like that, because you were almost like a sister. But I couldn’t stop once I started realizing how perfect you are. All I wanted was to be with you.”

  Her eyes are sad, and it’s my fault. “Why didn’t you tell Garret what happened?”

  The question takes me off guard. “Because…I couldn’t do that to him. He liked her so much, and at that point I didn’t know she had other guys. I thought maybe she’d straighten up and I could just forget it all.”

  “But she didn’t.”

  “No.”

  “So you told him about the other guy, but not about you.”

  It made sense in my head. So why does it sound so stupid when she says it out loud? “Yeah.”

  Suddenly, she looks like she’s about to explode. “Damn it, Russ, I can’t stand watching you do this!”

  “Do what?”

  “If you had told Garret what happened, this could have been solved months ago! But no, you had to save your own hide.” She lets out a frustrated grunt.

  My jaw drops. “It didn’t have anything to do with me. I was trying to protect my best friend.”

  “You were trying to save face!” she yells. “You didn’t want to admit you made a mistake because everyone would have found out. You would have looked bad. Heaven forbid you look bad!”

  I glare at her, upset that she doesn’t understand. She of all people should. “Daphne, I couldn’t hurt him. He would have been devastated and angry.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Garret was going to get hurt one way or another—and you did hurt him. Yeah, he would have been mad at you at first, but you didn’t know they were dating! None of us did. He would have understood that. He would have blamed Keira.”

  The idea hits hard. Why didn’t I do that? I hadn’t even thought of it. I’m such an idiot, and she’s finally seen it. “I told you I’m a screw-up. Sorry.”

  I head for the house. She’s obviously furious at me, and I don’t need to have it beaten in anymore.

  “Ugh!” She grabs my arm and spins me around so I’m facing her. “Why do you have to be so frustrating sometimes? You are such a good guy, but the second you start worrying about your reputation you do the stupidest things!”

  I look up at the sky, hoping the tears will sink back in. “What do you want me to do?”

  Her head hits my chest. “I want you to be yourself. All the time. I want you to stop putting strangers before the people you really care about.”

  “I don’t do that.”

  “You do!” She grabs my shirt. “You cover up every piece of yourself that might be embarrassing. You let people think you’re something you’re not. Every mistake you’ve ever made is the direct result of you faking it. I can’t stand it anymore! I just want you to be the guy I love.”

  I put my hands on her shoulders. “I’m trying.”

  She steps back. Her lip quivers as she sniffs back her tears. “Try harder, because I can’t be with your alternate personality.”

  She pushes past me, shoves her helmet on her head, and drives off. I should go inside, but instead I stand there for a while in the cold. It feels right, I guess, like an outward manifestation of how empty and cold I feel inside.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “You should really go home, son,” Old Man Parker says. “I feel like I’m workin’ you too hard, and on your vacation, too.”

  “I like working here, and if I’m going to culinary school I should save some money.” I slice extra tomatoes. It seems like everyone is too lazy to cook the week after Christmas; there’s been a steady stream of customers all day.

  He flips two burgers at once. “You should at least enjoy yourself some. Go out with friends, see that pretty girl of yours.”

  My knife stops for the smallest second. I hope he doesn’t notice. “Friends are traveling, and Daphne…you know I can’t see her whenever I want.”

  I can’t see
her at all.

  “Well, you’ve been doin’ twelve-plus-hour days, so whenever you want to take off just holler.”

  “Will do.” I fill the tomato bin for Charlie and then start battering onion rings.

  Parker’s is my only refuge. I would sleep here if they let me just to get away from all the mistakes I’ve made. Daphne hasn’t visited once, and I don’t think she will. She didn’t say it outright, but I’m pretty sure she broke up with me.

  These aches are different from anything I’ve experienced. I’ve been so sore from weights that I’ve had to grit my teeth just to walk. I’ve been tackled so hard I’ve seen stars and had big purple bruises. But these aches come from inside. They’re dull, constant, like all my energy has been sucked out.

  I miss her.

  I hate myself for ruining everything, even more for not knowing how to fix it.

  What more does she want me to do? I’m trying to be myself, but it’s kind of hard when I don’t exactly know what that means. Maybe I have been faking it, but if I have, I’ve been doing it for so long that I don’t know how to stop. I’m not sure where the false me ends and the real me begins.

  And I don’t care what Daphne said, I was not thinking of myself when I decided not to tell Garret. I didn’t want to upset him. That was all I could think about. Maybe it looked like I was covering my ass, but I never thought of it that way.

  I have no clue what to do, but I do know how to fry onion rings. So I work. And when there’s no more food to cook, I clean. The bathroom, the back room, the floors, the counters. I scrub the dishes by hand just so it’ll take longer.

  “You did all my jobs,” Trent says, almost making me jump. I have no idea how long he’s been standing next to me.

  “Sorry.” I battle some cheese that has welded itself to a pan. So much for non-stick.

  “Hey, don’t apologize.” He laughs. “At least not to me, but maybe you should say sorry to that pan. You’re gonna scrub a hole in it.”

  I stop. “The cheese won’t come off!”