CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I spend two hours cleaning the house.
Vacuuming the shag carpets, washing the wood-paneled walls with
sweet-smelling Murphy Oil Soap, wiping down the marbled Formica
counters, and scrubbing the old pink-ceramic toilets. I even scrub
the shower, though obviously it’s not like Sienna is going to use
it.
I’m acting as if this movie night is a date night
or something. I shouldn’t feel the need to impress the girl who was
once my best friend, who knew me better than anyone, with a clean
house. But I do.
If my grandma is suspicious of my behavior, she
doesn’t say anything; she just sits in her recliner flipping
channels, occasionally glancing at me when I walk by.
At ten to six, the heat blasting from the woodstove
has turned me into a sweaty mess, so I jump in the shower. Five
minutes later, I’m throwing on a pair of jeans and a vintage
T-shirt, running a brush through my hair as I walk down the hall,
the freshly vacuumed shag carpet soft between my bare toes.
I hope I look okay. It’s been so long since I’ve
tried to look good, but I don’t want to seem like I’m trying too
hard either. I’ve spent two years trying to blend in to the
background.
When I reach the living room, I do a double take.
Sienna is already sitting on the couch, and she and Gram are
laughing.
Neither of them look like themselves. Gram is
bright, happy. Sienna is light, airy, chuckling, nothing like the
person she’s been for the last two years. Relief surges through
me.
Even though I’ve taken a step down a path I’m not
entirely sure is the correct one, I have to keep going to see what
happens.
Sienna smiles, a big, genuine, sparkling smile. It
makes the mask she’s worn for two years seem like a distant memory.
She holds up two DVDs. “I went with classic Reese Witherspoon.
Cruel Intentions and Legally Blonde.”
“Cruel Intentions is my favorite movie,” I
say.
“I know.” She winks at me.
Oh. Right. “Let’s watch that first.”
Sienna hops up off the couch to put the movie in.
Right on cue, my grandma stands up. “I’ll leave you girls to it. I
have a bit of a headache today,” she says.
“Are you sure? You can stay—”
Gram waves it away, her deeply wrinkled eyes
blinking rapidly. The only time she blinks like that is when she’s
lying. She doesn’t know I can read her so easily. “Yes, I’m rather
tired, so I’m just going to go to bed early today. Popcorn is in
the cupboard.”
I suppress the urge to smile. I give Gram a hug,
and don’t miss the sparkle in her eyes. Was she really that worried
about me? “Thanks, Gram.”
“G’night, Mrs. Wentworth,” Sienna says as she picks
up the remote.
“Have fun, girls,” Gram says.
And then she’s gone, and it’s just me, Sienna, and
the bright menu screen. It illuminates the living room, somehow
making the whole scene feel more awkward, like there’s a big
spotlight beaming down on both of us.
Sienna turns to me, and it’s impossible to read the
range of emotions on her face. She’s not wearing as much makeup as
she does at school. She looks more the way she did when we were
younger, before she learned the virtues of eyeliner and blush. A
junior high version of Sienna, naturally beautiful and a touch more
innocent.
“You know what I was thinking about today?” she
asks.
“What?”
“Do you remember when you wanted that blue Gucci
purse?” she asks. “We spent three weeks scouring the malls for
it.”
I can’t help but break into a grin. “And I ended up
buying that knockoff, but you told everyone in school it was real,
and they believed you?”
She’s smiling back at me, a totally unguarded
smile, one I haven’t seen for two years. It melts what’s left of my
apprehension. “You did the same for me with those Prada
boots.”
“You mean Prado?”
We burst out laughing. The ice between us shatters.
“It’s better than that Channel jacket you bought at a garage
sale.”
My eyes widen. “I didn’t know Chanel only had one
n!”
Sienna continues smiling as she leans back into the
couch, sinking into the floral cushions. “I’ve missed hanging out
with you.”
“Me too. I mean, with you.” I stand abruptly. “I’ll
go pop some popcorn,” I say. “Do you want a soda?”
“Sure. Just make sure it’s—”
“Diet. I know.”
It’s strange, how the details come back so quickly,
as if the last two years never happened.
I toss the popcorn in the microwave and dig out a
big plastic bowl, then fill two glasses with soda and ice. I’m back
in the living room in no time, settling down at the opposite end of
the couch. The popcorn bowl sits between us.
The movie starts rolling, and I mentally revisit
the last time we watched this movie together. We were at Sienna’s
house. Fifteen, laughing nonstop, talking about boys and clothes
and a million other things that I can’t even remember right now but
which seemed so important at the time.
“Do you remember that camping trip we went on?”
Sienna asks.
“The one with Steven?” My heart leaps to my throat.
That had been the weekend I’d decided I was in love with him.
We drive for two hours, past Podunk logging
towns and through old mining areas. Steven is on a mission to get
to the camping spot, promising us over and over that it would be
worth the long drive. He’s at the wheel of his mom’s SUV, his buddy
Craig in the passenger seat. The two of them seem so much older
than Sienna and me, sitting just behind them in the backseat.
They’re so mature, adult-like. Whenever I’m around them, I feel
like a silly kid trying too hard to impress them.
Once we pass the last town, we drive up a
winding tree-lined county road. Steven pulls onto a gravel logging
road edged by soaring hemlock trees.
Finally, Steven announces that we’re there and
parks the SUV. Sienna and I throw the doors open, practically
falling out into the warm summer air. It’s early August, nearly
eight, the sun falling in the sky, but it’s still warm. Steven
rounds the back of the SUV and starts throwing our gear out onto
the ground, eventually uncovering our folding chairs in the pile of
stuff in the back of the car. He arranges the four chairs so that
they’re facing each other, and then puts the tiny folding card
table between them.
“We need to get some firewood. Do you think you
two can handle the tent? The instructions are in the
bag.”
For a second, I think he means me and Sienna. I
glance at her, but she’s looking at Craig. Then I realize that
Steven wants me to come with him. It’s Sienna and Craig who
he’s asking to handle the tent.
Steven claps his hands together, meeting my eyes
with a mischievous smile. “Let’s go find some kindling for the
fire.”
“Okay,” I say, trying really hard not to look
him in the eyes, because if I do, I know I’ll blush.
He’s the only guy who has that effect on
me.
He slides a mag light from the loophole on his
cargo pants. “But we have to go into the woods.” He flashes it
right into my eyes for emphasis.
I bat it away, stars freckling my vision. “Quit
it,” I say, but I can hardly feign annoyance. I give up and just
grin.
“May I escort you, my lady?” Steven says, in a
horribly bad English accent, swirling the mag light in front of him
like some kind of sword.
“You may,” I say, adding a faux curtsy. He
grins, sticking his elbow out.
My heart hammers harder as I tuck my hand into
the crook of his elbow. He leads me away from the banter of Sienna
and Craig, their laughter dying as we walk into the darkness. The
trees soar out around us, and what little light the moon provides
dims as we walk under the canopy of the trees.
“Your birthday is coming up, right?” He glances
my way, somehow looking . . . shy? I’ve never seen such a nervous,
timid expression in his eyes.
I nod. How did he know? Does that mean
something? The whole moment seems glossy, surreal, like something I
made up as I was falling asleep. Me gripping Steven’s arm, him
pretending I mattered.
He stops abruptly. “Did you hear
that?”
I freeze on the needle-covered path, immobile as
I strain to hear something. A rustling? A snapping of twigs? Other
than the yellow beam of Steven’s flashlight, it’s too dark to see
anything in the trees. Somewhere behind us Sienna shrieks, but it’s
a playful flirty tone, not the sound of impending danger. I will my
heartbeat to slow down enough that I can make out whatever Steven
heard. I stand stock-still, my head tipped to the side. My dark
bangs slide into my eyes.
“Boo!” Steven hollers in my ear, jerking my
arm.
I jump sky-high, putting at least two feet of
air between my boots and the damp ground.
By the time I regain my senses, he’s doubled
over, laughing as he clutches his side.
“You jerk!” I smack his arm, but I can’t stop
giggling.
“Ow! That was uncalled for!” He scowls at me
playfully. “Here, hold this.”
I take the flashlight from him, and before I can
take another breath, he grabs my waist and throws me over his
shoulder, spinning me around as I shriek and playfully beat on his
back. Finally, he drops me back to the ground, but it’s hard to let
go of his shoulders.
I don’t want to be apart from him.
As he slowly releases my waist, I know what I
feel for him is far more than a crush. My heart spasms in my chest
and seagulls flap madly in my stomach.
I stand there and stare up into his eyes for a
moment too long, hoping he’s going to kiss me. Instead, he clears
his throat, taking the flashlight out of my hand. “Well, how about
that kindling?”
I blink away the memory as I realize Sienna is
waiting for an answer. “Yeah. I remember the trip.”
She pulls a strand of blonde hair and twists it
around her finger as she stares at her knees. “I should have known
then that you liked him.”
“Why?” I chew on my lip, tasting the salt and
butter from the popcorn. I grab another handful and shove it in my
mouth, two kernels falling into my lap.
“We all slept in one tent, remember?” She raises an
eyebrow and gives me a knowing look. She gulps down a long swig of
her Coke without taking her eyes off of me.
I cough, choke on a kernel of popcorn. “What? I
didn’t do anything with him! I swear!”
She rolls her eyes. “But I woke up in the middle of
the night, and you two weren’t in the tent. I could hear you
whispering outside.”
“Nothing happened,” I say. “We just talked all
night.”
“Riiiiiight,” Sienna says, one eyebrow
raised.
“I swear!” But somehow I’m smiling, and so is she.
I look down and pick a piece of lint off my hoodie. “It doesn’t
bother you? That I liked him?”
“Do you think he liked you?”
I look up at her, realize she’s serious, that she
wants a real answer. “Yes. I mean, I think so.”
Her lips curl into the faintest of smiles. “Then,
no, it doesn’t bother me. I like the idea that when he . . . when
he left us, that something happy, something romantic was
happening.”
I frown. “It never really happened though.”
She shrugs. “But if he liked you, he probably
thought about it a lot. Thought about you a lot. My brother
was a world-class flirt, but if he really cared about a girl, it
took him a while to work up the nerve.”
My emotions rage, back and forth and up and down.
Sadness for losing Steven. Happiness for sharing a conversation
like this with Sienna. Despair for knowing she’ll never know why he
really died. Optimism about the idea that our friendship could be
repaired. Fear for what could happen if we really do become friends
again, and I lose her. I can’t do it twice.
“What about you and Patrick? You guys have been
dating, like, eighty million years.”
“One year,” she corrects. “And twelve days.”
“He seems super into you,” I say.
“You think?” She picks up a strand of hair and
twists it around her finger.
“Definitely.”
“What’s going on with you and Cole?”
I pick up the stray kernels of popcorn that landed
on my lap. “Uh, we kind of went out last weekend.”
Sienna’s jaw drops. “Seriously?”
I nod.
“We should do a double date or something,
sometime,” she says.
“It’s kind of ... early still. For me and
Cole.”
Sienna shrugs. “Maybe in a few weeks then.”
I nod. “That would be . . . great.”
And the scary thing is that it would be.