“It’s important, Mom.”
“I know. Don’t worry about that now. I’ll see you in the morning.” She hugs me before kissing me goodnight and slips out of my room.
My phone chimes with a text from Tommy: Looked like u needed space.
I send him a hasty apology and turn off my phone. I scrub off what’s left of my makeup and change into my pajamas, then crawl into bed. My once seemingly perfect life is unravelling at the seams faster than I can comprehend.
The house is silent, and I am quickly pulled into a heavy slumber.
CHAPTER TEN
SATURDAY ARRIVES WAY TOO FAST—probably because I’m dreading it. The boys won their game last night, which means the team’s celebratory barbecue is on for today. Mr. Slate has been icy to me all week, and I’d rather be getting a root canal than going to this miserable party. I wear my plain black bathing suit underneath my pink halter top and jean shorts—not that I plan on swimming. I imagine The Blonde sitting poolside as all the boys gawk at her, while Mr. Slate rubs her down with sun tan oil.
This is going to suck.
I drive to Derek’s house where Emily and Tommy are already on their second drinks.
Derek is pounding a third.
Are they capable of celebrating an event without alcohol? Or a Saturday night for that matter?
I lean against the counter and fold my arms. “You guys ready?”
“Don’t be like that,” Tommy teases. “It’s just a couple of beers—we’re celebrating!”
“If you get caught, you’re off the team, you know.”
“It’s fine, Kaley, chill,” says Emily as she slurps the last of her beverage.
“I’m serious. We’re going to a teacher’s house.”
Tommy slips his arm around my waist. “They’re just coaches. They’re not like normal teachers, we’ll be fine.”
“I know how much of a stickler you are for the rules, Kaley, but let it go,” says Derek with a sarcasm that only I can detect.
Biting my lip, I ignore him and turn to Tommy. “Let’s go,” I say, leading him out to my car.
He lets Derek and Emily cram into the backseat before climbing into the front.
“Wow, your car is super clean, Kay. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it like this,” Tommy says in astonishment.
I give a weak smile. “I just thought I’d give her a little TLC.”
“Are you going to finally cave in and let me and my dad restore this thing for you?”
“I don’t know . . . maybe.”
“Nice!” He gives me a kiss on the cheek. I’m thankful he’s in a good mood—maybe today won’t be a total bust.
Derek directs me to Coach Miller’s house and seems to be in a decent mood as well—maybe alcohol isn’t always a bad thing. I park on the curb behind a shiny black Tahoe that is all too tempting to rear-end. The street is lined with cars, and it appears as if most of the team has already arrived. I normally wouldn’t mind going to a teacher’s house for a barbecue with the baseball team—it might even be fun. But knowing Mr. Slate is here leaves me feeling insecure and anxious to flee the scene. And with Derek casting suspicious stares in my direction for the past week, it makes the whole situation that much more tense.
My anxiety spikes as we step outside into the backyard. I spot Mr. Slate near the grill, talking to Coach Miller, who is grilling hotdogs and hamburgers for the team. Several of my classmates are in the pool, but most are standing around, drinking sodas and talking. Derek and Tommy join the group by the grill and greet everybody with their customary head nods and cryptic handshakes. Mr. Slate glances my way, but seems completely unaffected by my presence. Emily stands next to Derek and Tommy while they start up a conversation with him, so I make my way over to Avery and a few of her fellow cheerleaders on the other side of the yard. I attempt to match Mr. Slate’s indifference while listening to the latest gossip amongst the girls. A quick scan around the yard reveals no sign of The Blonde.
Good, one less aggravation to deal with today.
After about an hour, everyone is sitting around the picnic tables, indulging in burgers, hotdogs, and other traditional barbecue fare. I stare at my potato salad, letting the multiple conversations around me morph into a far-off drone.
Tommy turns to me and proceeds with caution. “Are you sure you don’t want any meat, babe?”
“No, I’m fine, thanks,” I reply.
He slings his arm around me, giving me a quick peck on the lips, and I notice Mr. Slate’s eyes on us. I turn my gaze downward, taking a bite of my potato salad.
After several hours of awkward inner tension and endless amounts of mind-numbing baseball talk, the crowd starts to thin out. Jeff’s parents are out of town, and everyone’s heading over there for beer pong. Derek and Tommy are still in deep conversation with the coaches, discussing tactics for the upcoming playoff game. I sit at the edge of the pool with Emily, chatting, while our legs dangle in the water. The sun sets as we reminisce about the school year that’s soon coming to an end, and she even manages to make me laugh and take my mind off things. This is what I’ve always loved about her. It feels good to laugh with her again.
Derek joins us. “What’s so funny, ladies?”
“Nothing,” we say in unison.
“Miller said we can go in the spa.”
My heart catapults into my throat. I’ve avoided stripping down to my bikini in front of him the entire afternoon, and thought I was home-free.
“Will Mr. Slate be joining us?” Emily teases.
“No,” Derek replies straight-faced. Ever since he found me in the back of the Tahoe, he’s lost his sense of humor with all things Slate-related. “He’s helping clean up, and Miller said we can go in for a while if we want. ‘Just so long as we act appropriately.’” He says, using air quotes and a mocking voice.
“Let’s go!” Emily squeals. Before I can object, she drags me into the house, down the hallway, and pulls me into the bathroom. She takes her bathing suit out of her bag and strips off her clothes. “See? You get your spa time after all.”
“I never wanted spa time, Ems. Especially at a teacher’s house.” There has to be a way out of this.
“It’s cool, Kay, they’ll just be cleaning up. And besides, I was talking to Slate and Miller a lot today, and they really are chill guys.”
Then why does one of them make me so hot?
“Slate and Miller?” I cock an eyebrow at her. “So, you’re on a last-name basis now?”
“Everyone calls them that.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to go play beer pong?” I suggest. “Sounds like fun.”
She stops mid-change. “You want to play beer pong?”
Yeah, that’s not going to work.
“No, not really,” I admit.
“Didn’t think so.” She turns around so I can tie the back of her top.
WE MAKE OUR way back outside and find “Miller” laying out a stack towels out for us.
“I’m not kidding,” he cautions the boys. Tommy and Derek are already in the spa with Seth and Donovan. “I can see you from my kitchen window—no fooling around.” He walks back into the house just as Avery returns, prancing around in her skimpy bikini without a care in the world—I envy her confidence sometimes.
Emily and Avery join the boys in the spa, and I glance at the kitchen window. Coach Miller and his wife are talking to Mr. Slate and part of me wonders why The Blonde never showed. Hmm . . . trouble in paradise? I reluctantly slip off my halter top and shimmy down my shorts. Tommy lets out a whistle, and I give him a feeble smile as I step into the spa. The scalding water bubbles against my skin, sending a jolt through my body. I fasten my hair into a high bun and slowly ease my way into the water. Feeling eyes on me, I look up at the kitchen window.
Mr. Slate is watching me.
If it was any other teacher it would creep me out, but instead, heat courses through my veins that has nothing to do with the temperature of the water.
Tommy loops his arm around me, bringing my attention back to the group. Everyone is cracking up as Seth retells the story of how Emily got Derek and Tommy in trouble for ditching, and how the coaches punished them by making them run laps until they both puked.
When the boys change the topic back to baseball, I join the conversation with Emily and Avery, discussing our plans for college and exchanging gossip acquired throughout the party. But I’m only half-listening. I continue to glance at the house every so often, but never catch him staring again.
Avery moves over to Donovan’s lap, and Coach Miller bangs on the kitchen window, startling everyone. With a hard expression, he points at Donovan and Avery and shouts “No!” His voice is so powerful; it’s even intimidating through the glass. Avery giggles and slides off his lap.
After a while, everyone is fed up with the supervision and ready to head over to Jeff’s party. Emily and I slip into the bathroom to change.
“Is it cool if I just drop you guys off at Jeff’s and go home?” I ask her as we touch up our makeup. I somehow managed to keep most of my hair dry, which is shocking.
She turns and looks at me with a somber face. “Why don’t you want to hang out anymore? You’re always moping around.” Her concern touches me. “And you’re crazy if you think Tommy’s going to put up with it much longer. No offense, but he can get any girl he wants.”