The '68 Camaro Between Kenickie and Me (Pacifica Academy Drama Book 2) Page 23

  “We’re about to leave.”

  I managed a smile. “You look really nice.” My smile inched into a strong one. “Gramps is going to have the hottest date tonight.”

  She laughed and smoothed down the front of her modest, but elegant, black evening gown. “Thank you. But I’m wishing this dinner was another night.” Her eyes filled with concern. “It’s not right your grandpa and I have plans while you, our beautiful granddaughter, are home alone on a Friday night.”

  I shrugged. “Grams, I’m fine.” But that was such a lie.

  Had lying become, at some point, a physical part of me I’d never shed?

  “I also wish you’d tell me what happened with Shane.”

  In truth, I wasn’t pissed at him.

  I went back to focusing on my bulletin board. Specifically some polaroids of me with Ella and Quinn, the three of us huddled together and smiling for the camera.

  Like we were best friends.

  “Alright,” Grams said. “We’ll be home pretty late. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I nodded while still staring at the photos. “Have fun.”

  I’d stupidly been a loyal friend to Ella Walker and Quinn Abbott since we were twelve. I’d also stupidly followed Ella’s rotten lead, because I thought it made me stronger. The girl no one wanted to cross paths with for fear I’d rip them a new one. Like I’d done to Shane before I allowed myself to really know him. And some kids, like Theresa Flanagan, had deserved my bitchy side. But some of them, like Shane and sweet Lexi and awkward Erin, hadn’t. Like so many others. I didn’t want to think of the number.

  I’d gained a horrible image being that Natalie. The one Maddie threw in my face. And though I blamed Ella and Quinn for most of this, I also blamed myself.

  I narrowed my eyes.

  I’d seen Ella’s nastiness toward others too many times to count. But I hadn’t really seen their phoniness and lies when it came to me. They’d been my harshest judgers, too. I’d wasted so much time being their friend. Wasted three years of high school. I’d only been to one school dance. I’d never gone to any school games. And the only club I’d joined had originally been about anti-love—I shook my head.

  I’d found my real friends who loved the real me by joining an Anti-Love Club.

  I’d also missed out on having Shane Easton as a boyfriend all this time.

  Of all the school shows he’d been in, I’d only watched Romeo and Juliet and could barely remember his part. But I couldn’t wait to see him on stage as Kenickie, performing his big “Greased Lightning” number on the car we were building together.

  Yeah, he’d made a huge mistake not telling me the truth sooner. But it’s not like I hadn’t made some huge mistakes in the last few weeks. I couldn’t lose him twice. Not over this.

  Because I did deserve him. Deserved to be happy.

  I was so done. With Ella. With Quinn. With that Natalie. With any remaining fear.

  I had been stupid. But not anymore. And I knew exactly what I needed to do tonight since I’d have the house to myself for hours. I also needed him to be a part of it, since it would feel that much more…real.

  I took a deep breath and picked up my phone.

  I could only hope I hadn’t blown it by pushing him away. For a second time.

  But he picked up after only a couple rings.

  “Hi,” he said, sounding shocked and not just a little relieved.

  My heart fluttered at hearing his voice. “Hi. Thank God you answered.”

  “Thank God you called.”

  We shared a quick, nervous laugh.

  “Because I didn’t think I’d…ever hear from you again,” he quietly added.

  I leaned back in my chair. “Guess that means I did surprise you.”

  “Yeah. You do that a lot.” I heard the smile in his voice. “So this must mean you don’t hate me?”

  “Never.” I picked at the edge of my desk. “Shane, I’m sorry for…walking away from you. Again. I was just…hurt and confused and needed time.”

  “Natalie, no more apologies. Okay?”

  I smiled. “Yes. And I agree no more secrets.”

  “Or drama,” he added. “But I wish I was there to make it official with a pinky swear.”

  I hesitated, then said, “It’s funny you should mention that. Are you busy right—”

  “No.”

  I giggled. “Great. Because I…need you to be here for something pretty important. And my grandparents,” I playfully added, “are out for the night.”

  There was a pause on his end before, “I’m leaving now. And I’ll drive my mom’s car as fast as it’ll go.”

  I shook with more giggles as we hung up, then stood.

  With the night being comfortable, we could do this on the deck. I just had to find a metal bucket, lighter fluid and matches. And a fire extinguisher. To be safe. But I’d go easy on the lighter fluid. I didn’t need the fire department showing up like they had at Meg’s house in September. I then reached out and, one-by-one, plucked those photos off my board.

  I opened the front door. And Chloe darted out. But Shane caught her.

  “Thanks,” I said, gobbling him up with my eyes as he straightened.

  It looked like he still had on his clothes from the competition, but had pulled on a black, Vans hoodie sweatshirt. His hair was tousled, too. Like he’d had his window rolled down.

  I wanted to pounce on him. But he was holding my dog, enthusiastically licking his chin. And pouncing would have to wait. For now.

  “Come on,” I said. “We’re going to the deck.”

  He closed the door, carefully put Chloe down and followed me.

  “I’ll be honest,” he said around a quick laugh. “This wasn’t exactly how I saw this moment going the entire way over here.”

  I laughed. “Just wait, Kenickie.”

  And then we were on the deck, but I’d closed the sliding-glass door. To keep Chloe inside and the smoke outside.

  I peeked at him and bit my lower lip as his eyes swept over the display.

  I’d placed all my purging tools as far from the house as possible. I’d also dropped what I’d—we’d—be burning in a pile near the bucket.

  He raised his eyebrows. “You’ve been busy, Sunshine.”

  I dropped to my knees in front of my pile. “Welcome to The Purging.”

  It was really Phase One of the Natalie Carlisle purging. But that was between this Natalie—the real one—and the old Natalie.

  “The Purging…” he murmured while taking in the dark mistiness surrounding us.

  The only significant light we had came from one lit lamp in the living room.

  “Why do I suddenly feel like I’ve walked into a horror movie?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Sit down. It’ll be fun. And fine. I promise.”

  He dropped beside me, crossed his legs and eyed me. A bit warily. “And why do I get the feeling you’ve done this before?”

  I ignored that and picked up the stack of photos I’d collected from my board and frames on my bedroom wall. “All the photos of me with them I had in my bedroom.” I dropped them into the bucket. “And I’ve already deleted all the photos I had of us on my phone.”

  He nodded and smiled.

  I picked up the worn bracelet. “A friendship bracelet Quinn made me in the sixth grade. Actually, she made one for the three of us.” I tossed it into the bucket.

  His smile grew.

  “And you’ll especially like this part.” I picked up the flimsy dress I’d worn to that fucking party almost a week ago.

  I held the dress out so he could see it.

  His eyes lit up with recognition, but his mouth tightened.

  “I wish I could burn that,” he muttered. “And the images of you…getting away from—”

  “Shane, that’s what tonight’s for. Burning all the bad stuff.” I balled the dress up, threw it into the bucket and roughly wiped my hands on my jeans. “And moving on. Starting over.” I caught his ey
es. “Without all the ugly emotions. Like fear. And guilt.”

  He was silent for several moments, then sighed. “Okay. You’re right.” He closed his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them. “Consider those images in the bucket. But the guilt…” Our eyes locked. “That’ll take more time, Sunshine.”

  My heart and soul hurt at hearing him say that. But, maybe, all this would help him move past the guilt a little faster.

  “Okay,” I softly said. “I think we’re ready for the lighter fluid.”

  He handed it over. “Be careful with this. It won’t take much for that stuff to ignite.” He huffed. “And burning down your grandparents’ house won’t earn me any points with them. Or your parents.”

  “I know.” I squirted a quick round of fluid into the bucket. “Trust me.”

  He handed me the matches and took the lighter fluid. “We shouldn’t be this close, either. I really hate hospitals.”

  We stood, and I took out a match. But before I swiped it against the side, I mentally said, Ella and Quinn, you give friendship a bad name.

  I lit the match and…let go.

  And I burst into laughter after a somewhat tame flame shot out of the bucket; the crackling from inside the sound of the old Natalie Carlisle becoming nothing but ashes. Maybe I’d even release them into the air. But much, much later. To be very safe.

  “Feel better?” he asked with a trace of humor.

  I turned toward him. “Fuck yeah.” Though I still had two more phases to my purging.

  But right now I wanted to focus on him. Us. Starting over.

  “Thanks for being here for this,” I said. “Do you feel any better?”

  He smiled. “Yeah.” His eyes darted to the flame. “Wow.” He shook his head. “Setting things on fire wasn’t even on my radar when you said you needed me to be here for something.”

  I reached out, grabbed a fistful of his sweatshirt and tugged him toward me. “So what was on your radar, Kenickie?”

  He slipped his arms around my waist and smiled. That smile. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

  He lowered his head, and I tilted mine up.

  And that’s all it took to finally start our second kiss.

  Chapter 36

  “Hi.”

  I looked left at the sound of my dad’s voice. Then he, my mother and grandparents walked into my room. I hadn’t known they were back from their trip.

  And all of them being in here couldn’t be good.

  “Can we talk to you for a bit?” my dad asked.

  I nodded, and he and my mother sat on the foot of my bed. My grandparents kept standing. They were giving me warm smiles, but I had Chloe in my lap and hugged her to me.

  “What are you doing?” My mother looked at the empty picture frames on my bed.

  “I’m redoing my pictures,” I stated. “I’m not friends with Ella and Quinn anymore.” Also known as Phase Two of my purging.

  “Are you not friends anymore because of what happened last weekend?” my dad asked.

  I shrugged. “That’s part of it. They’re just…not who I thought they were.” I gestured to the photos I’d already printed on thick copy paper. “They’re my real friends.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that about Ella and Quinn. Can I see those?” My mother pointed at my desk, and I picked up the sheets with my photos and handed them to her.

  The pictures I’d been printing were the few I had with me and my real friends. I’d also printed the one picture I had of me with Shane I’d taken on my birthday at the skating rink.

  Of us standing really close and posing with exaggerated selfie pouts.

  Thinking of him brought back memories of our incredible night. Especially all the kissing. Like we’d never be alone again.

  My faced burned as hot as the fire in the bucket. That we’d actually doused with water before getting lost in…other stuff. And we’d cleaned everything up and he left. A half hour before my grandparents got home.

  I took a tiny breath to settle my flickering insides.

  Now so wasn’t the time to relive last night.

  As my parents looked at the pics, Gramps said, “Natalie, we know how much you love being here with us. And we obviously love having you here. But this isn’t where you belong when your mom and dad are in town.”

  My shoulders dropped.

  My parents were here to take me…home. Though being in the city put me closer to Shane and my friends—definitely a good thing—I still didn’t want to leave my Chloe.

  I squeezed her little body.

  My parents finished looking at the photos and handed the sheets to Grams.

  “Honey,” my dad began, “what gave you the impression you can’t hang a picture of your Camaro in your room at home? You’ve always been able to do that.”

  I glanced at my dad. “There’s something about that place. It doesn’t feel like home.”

  Wow. That truth had come out without me blinking. And more weight lifted.

  I sat up a little straighter.

  “Maybe it would feel more like home to you if you decorated your room like this room,” my dad countered.

  I stared at the top of Chloe’s head.

  What he’d said was true. Maybe I’d never put effort into making that room my real room.

  “You don’t feel like you can be yourself there,” my mother said.

  I sighed. “Mom, I’m not like you. Okay? I’m like Dad and Gramps. And I hate looking perfect all the time.” A little more weight came off of me. “It’s not me. I like looking like this.” I pointed at myself, still wearing my community service jeans, snug T-shirt and Converse. I also had my hair pulled up into a tight ponytail. A hairstyle I’d started loving since Shane seemed to love playfully tugging my ponytail. “Especially on the weekends.”

  “I know you’re not like me,” she calmly said. “I’ve known this for years.” She tilted her head to the left. “And I know you think I’m unreasonable. But it would be really nice to see some of me in you every now and then. Because you’re my daughter, too.”

  Her surprising honesty hung between us for several quiet seconds, and I nodded.

  Maybe what she wanted from me wasn’t so unreasonable.

  She smiled. Affectionately. “I know there’s some of me in you, since my Jimmy Choo sandals are missing.”

  Oh…I'd forgotten about those shoes. But it’s not like I’d been home to put them back.

  “I wore them last Saturday,” I confessed. “They’re here. I just need to clean them up.”

  Her smile deepened. “You can have the shoes. I’ve only worn them once.”

  Honesty, an affectionate smile and a pair of eight-hundred-dollar Jimmy Choo sandals?

  My near tantrum last week had actually caught their—her—attention. And my body felt almost…light. Like floating was a real possibility.

  “Perhaps you having those shoes will remind you that you’re also my daughter?”

  I gave her a tiny smile.

  I guess there was hope for me and my mother.

  Grams, smiling, handed over the sheets with my pictures. “Did you and Shane work things out today at community service?”

  Okay. Sometimes I would have to tell little white lies.

  “Yeah. We’re all good.” I laughed. “We had a pretty fantastic day, working on Greased Lightning.” Trying to stay focused on the car and not on each other.

  I then caught my parents and grandparents staring at me. While smiling.

  “Are your dad and I ever going to meet him?” my mom asked.

  I smiled. “That would be…really nice.” Especially since I planned on Shane Easton being around for a long time.

  My parents stood, and my dad said, “We were going to bring you home. But since you’re in the middle of redoing your pictures—that you can also hang up in your real room—maybe your grandparents can drop you off tomorrow?”

  I flushed at his words. But I would definitely print a second round of pics.

  “Of co
urse,” Grams said. “After we get back from golfing.”

  Oh, no. They couldn’t leave. Because we still had one more thing to talk about.

  I stood, too, hugging Chloe to my chest. “What about her?”

  My dad and grandparents focused on my mom, and she straightened.

  “I’ll give it two weeks.”

  That, too, hung in the air for numerous seconds. Until I squealed, then laughed. I also wanted to throw my arms around her. But we weren’t there.

  “If there are any problems whatsoever,” she continued, “Chloe comes right back here. Without a fight from you. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes! There won’t be.” I hoped. “She’ll do great.” I bounced in place, squeezing Chloe.

  My dad did come in for a hug, and I put Chloe on the floor. He was a great hugger, too. Like Gramps. And me. Must be a Carlisle thing.

  “Alright,” he said. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  They all left, and I sat down. Back to Phase Two of my purging.

  The final phase would come first thing Monday morning.

  I marched past my locker and weaved my way in between students toward Ella. She stood at her locker, where I knew I’d find her. And, of course, Quinn stood right beside her.

  I had a lot to say to my ex-best friends before this school day started.

  When I reached them, I said in a low voice, “You really are an evil bitch, Ella Walker.”

  She seemed startled. At first. Then her face oozed boredom.

  “Like I give a shit what you think of me.” She continued loading up her backpack.

  Quinn remained silent while she watched both of us.

  “I know it was you.” I glanced at Quinn. “And you. Who lied to Mr. Yates about the club and got it shut down.”

  Ella rolled her eyes, but Quinn, surprisingly, turned bright red.

  Her embarrassment—and maybe some guilt?—fueled the power burning inside me.

  “You two were supposed to be my best friends. And you jumped down my ass for not being your best friend and doing the competition with you?”

  Ella slammed her locker door shut. “We were trying to stop you from more social destruction. And totally wasted our time.” She gave me her she-devil smile. “But we did get it shut down.”