The manager from Roller Burger offers his profuse apologies while two employees—minus skates—mop up the Mazda. He does not offer to buy our dinner, so we decide it’s better if we head somewhere else. We stop off at Nate’s house first so he can change clothes. I follow him in through the garage.
“What happened to you?” Livvy asks. She sits on a stool at the counter drinking a glass of lemonade. I smile and laugh at the irony.
“We are still debating that,” I say. “My take is that Nate scared the ju-ju-bees out of the waitress at Roller Burger, which caused her to baptize us both in ice-cold drinks and onion rings.”
Livvy gives me a little smile, which quickly fades. “Sounds like something Butthead would do.”
“His theory,” I continue, “is that the waitress startled him first, so it’s really her fault that we got drenched and not his.”
“Of course it’s not his fault,” Livvy says. The sarcasm in her voice is as obvious as the big wet spot on my skirt. “Nothing is ever Nate’s fault.”
“Hey,” I say.
“Is for horses,” Livvy answers.
“Very funny.”
Livvy gulps the rest of her lemonade. “Not a very good start to your date.”
“Oh well,” I say, because I can’t come up with anything better.
“So what, now you’re not going? Or did Butthead just decide he needed to torture me over the fact that you have a date, and I don’t.”
“You know,” I say, “it’s no wonder he talks about you like he does when you talk about him like this.”
“Excuse me?”
“The whole reason we got drenched is because I told Nate he couldn’t bad-mouth you around me if we were going to keep dating. I told him you were my best friend, and I wouldn’t let anyone else talk about you that way, so why should I let him.” Help, I’m babbling again. “And I told him that if it meant we couldn’t go out anymore because he couldn’t stop bad-mouthing you, then too bad, and that was okay with me.”
Livvy looks a little bit like Nate did—eyes wide, jaw slack. I can feel the heat rushing to my face, and I figure I’m on a roll again. “So now,” I continue, “I’m going to tell you the same thing. Your brother has been nothing but nice to me, and I’m not going to let you sit here and call him names because you’re mad at me for going out with him. So if that means I have to stop going out with him, then fine. I will. Because you are that important to me.” I take a very deep, shaking breath.
“Um,” says Livvy.
I don’t say anything.
“Um,” says Livvy again.
I really, really want to keep going out with Nate, but I will not lose my best friend over it. An idea begins taking shape in the back of my brain. It wiggles its way forward and forms itself into a reasonably good thought.
“Go get dressed and come with us,” I say.
“Yeah, right,” Livvy says. Again with the sarcasm.
“Seriously,” I say. “I thought Chris and Am . . . er . . . I thought there were other people coming with us, and I’m not really allowed to go out unless it’s a group date. If you come with us, it will be. A group, I mean.” I’m very pleased at my quick thinking.
“First,” Livvy says, leaning back on the counter and folding her arms. “If I really thought you wanted me to come along, I might even give it thirty seconds of consideration. But you don’t really want me to. Second, I know for a fact that Nate will have a total nuclear meltdown if I go. He’ll be just like you, complaining about having to drag the younger sibling everywhere and how it takes all the fun out of things.”
Ouch. “I don’t complain about Donny that much.”
Livvy rolls her eyes. “Again I say—yeah, right.”
Ouch!
“Third, and finally, what makes you think I even want to go to the stupid Welcome Back Stomp? Why would I give up one of my last nights of freedom before school starts when I could . . .”
“Sit on your butt in front of the television?” I say.
“I have plans,” Livvy says. She sits up straight on the stool.
“Uh-huh.”
“I do,” she says, louder than before.
“Okay, fine,” I say. “You have plans. Sorry I asked.”
Livvy slumps back against the counter. “Okay, they may not be as great as your plans, but I did have something to do tonight.”
“Laundry?” I ask. I take a step toward her.
“Ha.”
“Cleaning your room?” I take another step.
“Doesn’t need it,” she says.
“Arranging your sock drawer?” I’m standing right in front of her now.
“You are so funny.”
I grab her hands in mine. “Please,” I say. “Come with me.”
“If it was just you,” she says.
“Oh bother about your brother. Forget he’s there, and come and have a good time.”
“He’ll make sure I don’t.”
“I’ll make sure you do.”
Livvy sits quietly. She bites her lower lip, then looks up at me. “I really want to go,” she whispers.
“Then do,” I whisper.
“Okay,” she says. “But not unless you change your clothes.”
We both start to giggle, and I feel like a big weight that had been sitting on my shoulders suddenly sprouts wings and flies away.
Nate emerges from his room, wearing khaki shorts and a dark green shirt. He looks very good in green.
“Livvy’s coming with us,” I say. Nate opens his mouth to say something. I flash him my best “drop the subject or lose a limb” look. He makes the correct decision.
“I’ll be down in less than five,” Livvy says. “Don’t let him drive off without me.”
“Thanks a lot,” Nate says when Livvy is out of earshot.
“You’re welcome a lot,” I say.
“Why did you invite her to go with us?”
“Because,” I say, “I’m really not supposed to be flying solo yet. I thought Chris and Amanda were coming with us.”
“Yeah, well, I arranged it so we would have a little private time.”
“Clever boy,” I say. “But that’s a really good way to make sure I don’t get to go out with you again.”
“And why is that?”
“Because if my parents find out that I was on a date date, rather than a group date, they would forbid me from going out until I am 37 years old.”
Nate steps closer to me and starts to put his arm around my waist. I step back, pointing at my still-damp attire.
“But how would they know? Unless someone told them, and I’m certainly not going to tell them.”
“No, but if they ask me, I’ll have to tell them.”
Nate looks puzzled. He tips his head, and his eyebrow scrunches down.
“I can’t lie. I’m the world’s worst liar. In fact, if I even think about lying, I am totally busted before I ever get the words from my brain to my mouth.”
“That bites,” he says.
“Yes and no.” I sit on a stool. “It keeps me from being sorry or worrying about covering my tracks.”
“Hmmm,” is all Nate says.
In less than five minutes (I kept track on the wall clock), Livvy is ready and we head for the car.
“It took me an hour to pick out this outfit,” I say. “Now I have to find a replacement in five minutes or less.”
“Not to worry, chica,” says Livvy. “Your personal fashion consultant is here.” She leans in between the two front seats, and even though I feel a little awkward, I’m glad she is here and that she decided to come to the dance.
We pull into the drive at my house, and I hit the ground running. Livvy is close on my heels. “You can come in if you want,” I say to Nate.
“I’ll wait here, if it’s okay.”
“Suit yourself,” I say. “I promise I’ll hurry.”
“I promise, she’ll look fabulous,” says Livvy.
I look at her. “Thanks,” I say.
“What are friends for, chica? Now, dahling, let’s get you dressed for the ball.”
The house is dark. The front door is locked.
“That’s weird,” I say, searching for the spare key that Mom hides under the little birdhouse by the walk. I’m a little creeped out by the fact that it appears no one is home. Mom didn’t mention she had plans, and neither did Dad. And I can’t imagine them going anywhere when Donny is so sick. They wouldn’t leave him with a stranger.
“Where is everybody?” Livvy asks.
“That’s what I’d like to know.”
I flip the light on in the hallway and head toward the den. “Hello?” I call. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
Nothing.
Livvy climbs the stairs. “Mrs. James? Are you up there?”
“This isn’t right,” I say, trying to sound casual.
“Maybe they went to a movie.”
I shake my head. “Donny’s been way too sick. Unless he made a miraculous recovery, which I highly doubt.”
“Did they leave you a note?”
I turn and walk toward the kitchen. Mom leaves notes for me on the fridge if she has to leave them.
A yellow piece of scratch paper is stuck to the door of the refrigerator. I pull the apple-shaped magnet away and read the note.
Taking Donny to St. Ben’s ER. Will call later. M & D
My hand starts to shake. “Why are they taking him to the ER?”
“Come on, Nate can drive us up there.” Livvy puts her arm around my shoulder, but I stand firm. I’m frozen.
“What happened?” I ask.
Livvy takes my shoulders firmly and looks me in the eye. “We don’t know until we get there to see what’s going on. Let’s go get in the car.”
My heart beats so hard that it feels like my whole body is shaking.
I’m still gripping the note as I climb into the Mazda. Nate smiles at me, but his smile wilts when I hand him the note from Mom and Dad.
“What happened?” he asks.
“I don’t know.”
Livvy leans into the space between us. “We need to go to St. Ben’s ER and find her mom and dad.”
Nate doesn’t say a word. He shoves the car into reverse and squeals the tires as he heads toward the hospital.