The Force of Gravity(63)

“See you kids at the house!” My mom waves at us as she heads to her car.

“Your mom seems really happy, Kay,” Emily observes from the front seat.

I roll my eyes. “Yeah. I think it’s the whole ‘new boyfriend’ thing.”

“That is so weird,” she says.

“You have no idea.”

Derek has to stop for gas, so my mom ends up beating us to the house. She has the door open for us when we arrive, and the coffee table is filled with snacks and beverages. It’s not quite the grandiose display one would find in the Larson household, but what is? She means well, and I appreciate what she’s trying to do for me.

“Do you want to take pictures now or later?” my mom asks.

“Now, please,” I say. It’s the last thing I want to do, but I want to get this over with.

She whips out her camera and snaps several group photos of us. Then she takes a few of just me and Emily. She then has the gall to snap a few pictures of Tommy and me alone. I grit my teeth as I smile wide for the camera, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist.

When our photo shoot is finally over, and my mom is out of earshot, Tommy turns to me.

“Hey, I hope you’re okay with me bringing Avery to the party.” His inflection is sincere—well, as sincere as Tommy knows how to be.

My gaze cuts to his hand still on my waist, but he doesn’t take the hint.

“No problem,” I say.

“Are you sure?” he asks. “I wasn’t going to bring her—in fact, I was going to ask you to be my date. But Emily told me there was no way you’d say yes.”

My body goes stiff. “Emily was right,” I say, stepping out of his hold.

The fact that he even considered asking me solidifies the fact that he always gets his way in life. He doesn’t seem angry, though. It’s more like he just doesn’t know what to do when someone tells him no.

“You can do better than Avery, though,” I say over my shoulder as I walk over to the coffee table.

Tommy sits down adjacent to me as I dive into my mom’s famous peppermint meringue cookies. She always saves them for the holidays, but she knows they’re my favorite, and I’m touched by her sweet gesture. Although I could really use a shot of vodka right now, sugar will have to do until I get to the party.

The evening isn’t as uncomfortable as I expected it to be. We find a light banter between the four of us, and Tommy and I even share a few laughs. Maybe this summer won’t be a complete travesty. Maybe we really can find common ground and just be happy for each other.

Before I know it, two hours have passed, and I find myself laughing so hard I have to hold my stomach as we reminisce over the last school year. My mother looks triumphant as she dawdles around the house. Emily is in the middle of retelling the story of the disastrous night she and I snuck out of her house to meet the boys, only to realize when we got back that we had locked ourselves out in the rain and had to wake her parents up by banging on their bedroom window. The four of us double over in hysterics as she acts out her father’s angry rant in his underwear.

My mom’s voice breaks through our laughter. “Do you kids know anyone in a black Tahoe?”

The room instantly falls silent as my body goes into shock. Emily’s widened eyes meet mine across the room. I slowly turn to my mom as she’s peering out the front window.

“Why?” I croak.

“Because a black Tahoe just pulled up,” she replies.

My pulse sprints through my veins as Emily glances at the boys for answers.

“And a very well-dressed young man is walking up, carrying . . .” her voice trails off.

“Did you invite him over here?” I hear Tommy ask Derek.

Derek shakes his head, then pins his eyes on me. He appears more stunned than angry, and I force a quick glance at Tommy—he’s followed Derek’s gaze and is also now staring at me. I realize my jaw is still slack, and I clamp my mouth closed.

The doorbell pierces the silence, sending shockwaves through me, and I drop my gaze to my knees, trying to pretend three pairs of eyes aren’t boring into me. My mom opens the door, but my body won’t move. I don’t know if I want to run to the door, or far, far away from it.

Then I hear his silky voice resonate from the doorway.

“Hi. I’m here to see Kaley.”

A squeal escapes Emily, and she cups her hands over her mouth, her eyes dancing at me, and my face feels like it’s on fire. Derek squints at her, then looks back to me.

“Kay?” my mom calls over her shoulder, her voice wary. “Someone is here to see you?”

I push myself up onto my wobbly legs, ignoring Derek’s hardened stare, and face the door. A small laugh of nerves—or hysterics, I’m not sure—bubbles out of me. Elijah stands in the foyer, wearing a black long-sleeved shirt with dark-gray pants, flawlessly tailored. He is a walking Armani ad.

He holds up a large bouquet of long-stemmed lavender roses. Fear and euphoria collide in my chest, threatening to strangle me, and I have to remind myself to breathe. I give my mom a stern look as I make my way to the door. She hesitates before stepping away.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper. Everyone is within earshot, and I imagine them craning their necks behind me.

He speaks clear enough for the room to hear. “I was wondering if you would do me the honor of accompanying me to the movies tonight.”

My heart lurches into my throat, rendering me speechless. I hear Emily squeal again, and I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing myself not to look back at her. I open my eyes, but can only nod like a muted monkey, and he gives me a heartbreaking grin and extends the beautiful bouquet.

“Thank you,” I say, finding my voice again and accepting the flowers. “But are you serious right now?” I glance behind me, then lean in and whisper, “Are you sure you know what you’re doing? You don’t have to do this, I—”

His lips cut off my words as he parts my mouth slightly, teasing me with the only lips that can evaporate my surroundings. When he releases me, I falter in my heels for a moment and place a steadying hand on the wall.

He turns to the living room with unwavering confidence. “I hope I’m not intruding on any plans,” he says to my wide-eyed group of friends. I pull my attention from Elijah and turn to them. They all remain paralyzed with shock. Emily is actually standing, and I have no doubt she popped up off the couch like a meerkat when he kissed me.

“We’re just going to Derek’s party, Mr. Slate,” Emily says bashfully.

My vision narrows to my mother’s enlarged eyes, and I feel faint. I shoot her another warning look.

He clears his throat. “Please, call me Elijah.”

“Oh. Okay,” Emily replies, blushing as she slowly sits back down.

I can’t bring myself to look at Derek, but I do glance at Tommy—his skin is a pale shade of green.

Elijah takes my hand, sending a jolt through my nervous system. “Are you okay missing the party?”

I nod, finding myself speechless once again.

He leans forward and whispers in my ear. “You look insanely beautiful, but would you mind doing me a favor?” His breath tickles my neck, and it’s all I have not to drop my bouquet and have my way with him right here in the doorway. “I’d love it if you wore the dress you had on the last time we were at the movies.” When he straightens, his eyes peer down at me, glinting with desire.

Hmm, he has a plan.

I grin at him with an irrepressible glee. “You got it.” I lead him into the living room, avoiding my friends’ gawking eyes, and hand my mom the roses. “Can you put these in something? I need to go change.”

She grabs my arm as I turn for the stairs. “Why don’t you help me for a minute,” she says with a sweet tone, but threatening eyes.

I turn to tell Elijah to have a seat, but he’s already making himself at home on the couch, greeting the boys with their signature handshakes. The back of Tommy’s neck is red as he embraces his former coach, cloaking me in sweet validation. Emotions I’ve been suppressing for weeks come flooding back and have me struggling to keep my guard up. I watch Elijah grab a peppermint cookie and sit next to Emily casually. Emily, however, looks like she’s about to pass out.

I meet my mom in the kitchen as she’s pulling a vase from the cupboard. When she senses my presence, she spins around.

“Mr. Slate?” she scolds. “He’s your teacher?”

“Mom, it’s not what you think.”

She lifts her brows. “Oh no? He just brought you two dozen long-stemmed roses. He’s surely not here to tutor you, Kaley.”

“Mom,” I say with a nervous laugh. “He’s not that much older than me, it’s okay.”

“This is not funny, Kaley Christine. You are so lucky your father isn’t here. He’s your teacher,” she says. “How long has this been going on?”

“Was my teacher,” I correct. “And Mom, do you really want to talk to me about morals right now?”

She steps back and puts her hands on her hips. “Excuse me, little miss, I’m an adult.”

“So am I,” I yell in a whisper. “And so is he. He’s not what you think.”

“So what is he then?” she says, her face livid.