Glitter and Sparkle Page 12
With my back still toward him, I close my eyes for a moment, imagining it. Then I take a quiet, steadying breath and move to the side, away from Harrison. I can feel his eyes follow me across the kitchen, into the living room.
“I have homework,” I call over my shoulder.
And like the little girl he thinks I am, I run away and hide in my room.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
February 14th
“You’re sure you don’t want to double with us?” I ask Riley, desperate. “It would be fun.”
I twist a strand of my hair around my finger, a nervous habit I haven’t seemed to break, and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My makeup is perfect, my hair curled nicely. There are no excuses not to go out, but all I want to do is stay home.
“I’m watching the boys,” Riley says. “You know I can’t get out of that. I volunteered weeks ago so Mom and Dad could go out to dinner.”
I rack my brain, trying to think of someone that could watch Riley’s younger brothers. Maybe Mom? No that’s horrible. I can’t ask her to do that on Valentine’s Day.
“Besides,” Riley continues. “Grant’s already made reservations. I can’t just show up.”
Maybe you could take my place.
I gulp, feeling guilty for the thought. What’s wrong with me? Grant’s great. He’s nice; he’s handsome. Every other girl in school would be ecstatic to be in my shoes.
“That’s true. You’re right.” I nod at my reflection, reminding myself to be brave.
It’s just dinner anyway.
The doorbell rings, and I jump. It’s too early for Grant to be here, so I let Mom answer the door. A voice I don’t recognize echoes through the entry.
“I should go,” I tell Riley. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
“Have fun.” She says it like a command.
Just as I’m ending the call, Mom yells up the stairs, “Lauren, it’s for you.”
Curious, I peek my head out of my room. Mom peers up at me from the bottom of the staircase, holding a bouquet of daisies.
She grins. “Are they from Grant?”
I grow hot and then cold. My emotions go from giddy to irritated and settle at somewhere in between. I take the vase from her, and, together, we walk into the kitchen. I set them on the counter and snatch the card before Mom has a chance to look at it.
After I read the note, I stare at it, baffled.
“Well,” Mom says. “Who are they from?”
“Grant,” I mumble.
“Oh, that was sweet of him.”
Mom fusses over the flowers, and I read the card again. Looking forward to tonight.
I slide the envelope back in the card holder and then tap my fingers on the counter, staring out the back window. The night is growing dark, and there are no lights on in the guest house. Usually Harrison’s home from work by now.
He must have plans for the night.
“When’s Grant going to be here?” Mom asks.
“Hmmm?” Distracted, I look over. “Oh, soon.”
“I have to get ready.” She flips through a stack of mail, sorting it into piles. “Your dad won’t tell me where he’s taking me tonight.”
I know, but I’m not going to ruin the surprise.
“Don’t stay out too late,” I tease.
She raises an eyebrow, giving me a wry smile. “I’ll be back by curfew.”
Not long after she leaves the kitchen, the doorbell rings. I bite my lip and shake my shoulders, trying to rid them of the tension that’s settled there.
Grant’s waiting for me at the door. He surveys my dress with a smile. “You look nice.”
Twirling a strand of hair, I say, “Thanks.”
“Are you ready?”
I nod, nervous even though we’ve already been out on a few dates. This one feels different.
The restaurant is already busy by the time we arrive. Grant takes my hand and leads me through the crowd toward the front. The lights are dim, the atmosphere hushed. A piano plays in the next room.
“We have six o’clock reservations,” Grant says to the hostess.
The woman smiles at us. “What name is the reservation under?”
“Grant Walters.”
She purses her lips, scans the list, then looks up, concerned. “For six o’clock?”
Next to me, Grant shifts. “That’s right.”
She shakes her head, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry. I don’t have it down.”
The line of impatient people push at our backs, and I can practically feel them breathing down my neck.
Grant leans forward, growing nervous. “I made it yesterday. Are you sure it’s not there?”
“No, I’m sorry.” She looks apologetic. “There’s nothing I can do tonight. We’re completely booked.”
The crowds seem to shift closer.
“It’s all right,” I whisper to Grant, hoping to ease the panicked look from his face. “We can go somewhere else.”
For a moment, I think he’s going to argue with the woman, but then he looks at me, and his shoulders slump in defeat. Slowly, he nods.
We press through the well-dressed crowd, murmuring apologies as we make our way out. We pause once we reach the lamp-lit garden walkway. Right now all the plants are dormant, asleep for the winter, but I’m sure it’s lush in the summer. Tonight, it’s just depressing.
“I’m so sorry.” Grant runs a hand over his neck, looking as tense as I did earlier. “I don’t know what happened.”
I set my hand on his arm. “It’s still early. We’ll try somewhere else.”
We drive through town, quickly finding out that even the most casual restaurants have an hour wait or more at this point. Grant is growing increasingly agitated.
Finally, an hour-and-a-half later, we end up pulling into a fast food restaurant. If we’d waited at one of the first restaurants we tried, we would have probably been eating by now.
“Do you think we could just go through the drive-thru?” I motion to my dress, which is slightly too formal for a restaurant with plastic seats and a kid’s play area.
Grant presses his palm between his eyes and suppresses a groan. “This wasn’t supposed to go like this.”
A family with two little girls walks out the door. Each girl has a headband with springy hearts wobbling on top, and they’re dressed head to toe in pink and red. It’s too much.
The laugh starts low in my chest, and then it builds until there’s no holding it back. Grant looks over, horrified. I shake my head, realizing just how ridiculous this is, and grab his hand. After several moments, he cracks a smile.
“Let’s get food and head back to a park or something.”
He gives me a soft smile, a smile that acknowledges he knows I’m trying. “It’s too cold. And dark.”
I squeeze his hand. “We’ll eat in the car then.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t. It’s fine.” I lean closer. “We’re fine.”
Grant finally nods.
We get our order and find the closest well-lit, snow-covered park with street lights. Just as I’m finishing my hamburger, a glob of mustard falls from the bun and lands on my dress.
“Oh, no! Mustard is so hard to get out.” I dab at my dress with a napkin. There’s a half-full bottle of water tucked in the back, and I pour some onto a new napkin, hoping I can wash most of the stain out. As I scrub, little bits of brown napkin start to rub onto my dress.
“I don’t think this evening is going to get any better,” Grant says as I fuss over my outfit. “So I’m just going to give this to you now.”
When I look up, I see he’s holding a long velvet box. My heartbeat increases, and I swallow. “You already bought me flowers.”
He nudges the box toward me, and I take it gingerly. When I open it, I find a simple silver necklace with a twisted pendant over a citrine, my birthstone.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, feeling like a ton of bricks has settled in my stomach.
I blink at him, my breath catching with joy. Or panic.
I’m not sure which.
“So what do you say? Can we be exclusive?”
I nod slowly at first, and then, as I make up my mind, more confidently. “Yes.”
Grant grins, and he looks relieved. He nods toward the necklace. “You want to try it on?”
He pulls the delicate chain from the box. It’s beautiful—it really is. I tilt in the seat so my back is toward him and pull my hair to the side. He settles the necklace around my neck, and his fingers brush against my skin as he hooks the clasp.
I run my hand over it, telling myself it’s fine. I’ll get used to wearing it.
My skin already itches.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
Instead of drawing back, Grant brushes his fingers against my neck. Steeling my courage, I turn. He smiles and leans in.
Grant kisses like he does everything else—with practiced skill. But the car door is hard against my back, and it’s starting to get cold. I pull back first.
“I guess it’s time I get you home?” he asks, obviously hoping I’ll say no.
I nod.
His smile fades a little, but he sighs and starts the engine. “The next date will be better. I promise.”
When we arrive at the house, the windows are black except for the one in the entry. My parents are still out.
But why wouldn’t they be? It’s just after nine.
I could ask Grant in, invite him to watch a movie or something, but I’m not up to it tonight.
“I’ll walk you to the door.” He turns off the engine.
Together, we walk up to the entry and pause by the front door. Grant slips his arms around my waist, drawing me close. Without fear of my father peering out from one of the windows, he kisses me. I wrap my arms around his neck, trying to feel something more than a dull warmth.
I like Grant, but there’s no spark.
Playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, I pull him closer. There must be something here. There has to be.
Grant makes a low sound in the back of his throat, and he pulls me closer.
Suddenly, car lights shine on us as a truck pulls into the drive. Grant and I break apart. I’m sure he’s worried it’s my parents returning for the night, but it’s worse. It’s Harrison.
Harrison continues around the circle drive, disappearing behind the house. My heart beats in a mad rhythm, and I feel like I’ve done something horribly wrong.
But I haven’t. My boyfriend was just kissing me goodnight. My boyfriend, Grant. Grant my boyfriend.
I’ll get used to it eventually.
Grant leans forward and kisses me one more time, a soft goodbye peck. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Maybe we can hang out after my game?”
I nod.
“You are coming to the game, aren’t you?”
After hesitating for just a moment, I nod again.
He gives me that all-star smile of his. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon then.”
We say goodnight, and then I shut the door. I stand in the foyer for a moment, running my hand over my forehead.
“Your dad would have freaked out if he’d seen you.”
I jump and glare at Harrison. He’s standing in the entry, leaning against the wall, eating a sandwich. How did he even have time to make that? Didn’t he just get here?
He takes another bite, watching me, waiting for me to say something.
“But he didn’t.” As soon as I hear Grant’s car pull out of the drive, I unclasp the chain and drag it from my neck.
Harrison’s eyes stay trained on the necklace, but he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he asks, “Did you have a good night?”
I brush past him, irritated for no rational reason other than he’s here, standing in my house, eating a sandwich, and looking ridiculously handsome in the jeans and button-down shirt he wore to work.
Of course, he follows me upstairs.
“Go away,” I say. “I have to change.”
Harrison raises an eyebrow, leans against my door frame, and takes another bite of his sandwich. “Be my guest.”
He looks so devilishly handsome, I almost laugh as I push him into the hall and close the door.
“You never answered how your night was,” he calls from the other side.
After I set the necklace on my vanity, I pull my dress over my head and scowl at the mustard splotch. “It was fabulous.”
“It sounds like it was fabulous. You’re in the best mood.”
After I pull on yoga pants and a huge T-shirt, I open the door and scoot past him. “I got mustard on my dress.”
Again, he follows me, this time into the laundry room. I spray the spot with stain remover and set it on the washer to soak.
“So are you guys a thing now, or what?”
I let out a slow breath. “Yeah.”
Finished with his sandwich, he slides his hands into his pockets. “About time.”
“Right? What was I waiting for?” I mean to say the words casually, but they end up coming out forced.
His eyes stay on mine, his expression void of emotion. It’s unnerving, and I look away.
“Okay, I’m exhausted.” I motion for him to move along. “You can go now.”
Harrison raises an eyebrow, his gaze still on me. “I’m dismissed, huh?”
Several beats go by before I say, “Yep.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
April 15th
“We have to pick a theme,” our student council president states. Janna peers at her clipboard. “So far we have the Roaring’ Twenties, Masquerade, Paris, and…that’s it. Any more ideas?”
Vance leans forward, almost tossing Kally off his lap. “What happened to Zombie Prom?
Janna gives him a withering look. “I vetoed that.”
It’s the prom committee’s first official meeting, and I’m so brimming with ideas, I can barely contain myself. Luckily Grant has his arm draped over my shoulders, unknowingly holding me in place. He’s here in payment for all the games I’ve been going to. Basketball ended, and baseball started soon after. It’s an endless string of sports.
Prom committee is a small exchange, in my opinion.
“What about a garden theme?” I ask.
Janna looks at me. “What do you have in mind?”
I scoot forward, fully prepared. “The botanical gardens has the large outdoor amphitheater, and it’s available for rent for special events. The gardens are in full bloom in mid-May, and there are lanterns and lit fountains, which would save a lot of money from our decorating budget.”
“What if it rains?” Kally asks.
Honestly. Like I haven’t already thought of that.
“They have a huge meeting hall. If the weather is bad, we could use that as a backup.”
Janna nods. “That’s not a bad idea—if they’d let us use it.”
They will. I already called to check. I don’t tell her because I don’t want to seem too eager.
“Well, we were going to discuss venue next, but I like the idea of the botanical gardens,” Janna says. “Any other ideas?”
“There’s the convention center,” a junior says, but she doesn’t sound too excited about it.
Most of the school’s proms have been there, except for the dreadful event from last year that ended up in the school’s gymnasium when there was a possible gas leak at the center.
“Anyone else?” Janna asks. When no one answers, she turns to me. “Lauren, do you want to give them a call? Check on prices and availability?”
“Sure.” I say it like it’s no big deal, but inside I’m dancing. I’ve wanted to do p
rom at the gardens since I was a freshman. I have no idea why no one has thought of it before.
“That’s enough for today,” Janna says. “We’ll meet again next Friday at the same time.”
Grant grins. “I have baseball practice after school next Friday.”
He doesn’t have to look so happy about it. I elbow him in the ribs, and he laughs.
Janna rolls her eyes. “You’re only here because we need Lauren, so I think we’ll get along just fine without you.”
Grant clutches his chest. “That hurts.”
The room laughs adoringly at their golden boy, and I only shake my head, used to it. It’s a little weird, like dating a boy version of Riley. Except Riley and I have things like fashion and hair and makeup in common. Believe it or not, Grant’s not at all interested in discussing those things.
We walk from the classroom, and Grant laces his fingers in mine. We turn the corner, and, seeing that the hall is empty, he wraps his arms around my waist. His thumbs hook into the loop at the back of my jeans, and he brushes a kiss to my lips.
“When does your practice start?” I interrupt.
He checks his watch. “Fifteen minutes.”
When he leans in to kiss me again, Janna turns the corner. With an irritated smile, he pulls back.
“A group of us are going to the movies tonight,” she says. “You guys should come.”
Grant looks at me, letting me decide.
“Sure,” I answer even though I’ve gotten behind on my blog with all the games I’ve been going to lately.
Janna tosses her hair over her shoulder. “Invite Riley, too.”
We discuss it for a few more moments, and then Grant walks me to my car.
“I’ll pick you up at six thirty,” he promises.
When I get to my house, Riley’s car is already in the drive. I find her in the kitchen with Harrison.
“You’re early,” I say to her as I help myself to a bowl of berries Mom has on the counter.
Riley shrugs. “I didn’t have anything to do after school, so I came over here.”
Even though she knew I’d be late today.
Interesting.
She’s sitting next to Harrison, watching him do something on his laptop.