Falling for the Ghost of You(39)

“Oh…um…” I cover my blushing cheeks with my hands. “Zane kind of…tore it.”

Lauren’s brown eyes widen comically. “Should I go get the popcorn?”

I nod weakly. “And chocolate.”

I tell her almost everything. We sit on her bed, munching snacks, and she’s so enthralled by my recount that she doesn’t even yell at me about crumbs.

“Wow,” she says when I’m done. “That’s so…hot.”

“Right?” I sigh and pop a piece of chocolate into my mouth barely tasting it.

Lauren hands me a napkin. "Okay, but what about that comment about your mom being right? Is he admitting that he will break your heart?"

I throw my hands up in the air. " Of course he's going to break my heart. I know, realistically, these things never works out. I'm still in high school, and he's got a life and a job in L.A. I can't even envision a scenario where we end up together. Right?"

She stays silent for a moment, then gives a shrug. “It could happen. We’ll be off to college before you know it, and you want to go to UCLA, right?”

I flap my hand at her. “That’s months and months away—we probably won’t be together by then. Why would he stay with me? I mean, do you know how many girls Zane’s been with? Like, a lot. A lot.”

She is taken aback by my vehemence. "V, are you, like, falling in love with him?"

"No! What? No..." I laugh weakly, and run a nervous hand through my hair. "I just...I like him."

"Okay." Lauren backs off and drops down on her desk chair. "So...what now? Are you guys dating? Are you going to sneak around and see each other?"

I automatically check the phone in my hand for messages. Nada. "I don't know, Lauren. I guess I'll just—I don't know. I'll wait and see, I guess."

Privately, I scoff at the term "dating." That's just a way too immature and...and weak term to describe my relationship with Zane. What happened between us was way too intense an experience to be defined so mundanely.

Or I'm romanticizing what is essentially a hook up. Yup, that's probably it.

Still. The look in Zane's eyes when we kissed. I want to believe that what I saw there was more than just lust. Was it?

I don't know. I wish he would call. More than anything, I want to hear his voice, reassuring me that what happened wasn't a mistake, and that we would see each other again.











Chapter 15





I missed my mommy. I didn't realize how much until I see her running out the door to greet me, and I nearly burst into tears when she gathers me up in a rib-crushing hug.

She looks great! Apparently, Europe agrees with her. I gush over her sophisticated new hairstyle and expensive-looking outfit. Mom's entire being glows with happiness, and—yes—love. She ushers me into the house to show me all the clothes and souvenirs she got me. Even Bill seems...content. He pats my back awkwardly when I compliment his tan.

We've officially moved into Bill's house. I should be excited, right? My new room is easily three times the size of the old one, and Mom went a little nuts decorating it princess style. All that purple and antique Victorian furniture's not really my taste, but whatever, it's pretty. I do like the little balcony outside the French doors, perfect for any prince who wants to climb up it and rescue me. And the giant four poster bed with the dramatic gauzy canopy makes me feel like a harem girl—which I can't figure out why I think that's a good thing.

So it's been three days since I've seen Zane. Our schedules never seemed to match up. But we've been talking on the phone, for hours at a time. And yes, I'll admit it: we are sexting.

I can’t believe I just admitted that. One night with Zane, and I’ve suddenly turned into a sexpot. Sigh, I miss him. He's been in L.A., taking care of some business, but he's coming over for dinner tonight.

Yes. Dinner with our parents. Yikes.

I am ridiculously nervous, and suddenly shy at the thought of seeing him again. How should I act? What should I wear? My dilemma is complicated by the fact that my mother is going to be there—and his father.

Oh, this could be so bad.

Mom wants me to wear the pretty peach dress she got me in Paris, and it's clear to me why when I wander into the sitting room, and she's wearing a matching dress! I immediately turn back around to go change, but Mom's voice stops me.

"My goodness, you look so beautiful, Violet!"

I sigh inaudibly, halting in my tracks. "Thanks," I mumble.

Mom's got her iPad tucked under one arm. When I ask her about it, she beams.

"I thought Zane might like to see some pictures of our trip. I know you've seen most of them—I must have sent you a hundred a day."