A soft tap on the door interrupts my geometry homework. I’ve been up in my room ever since Brad and I returned from the park. He offered to tutor me when we got back, but I said I wanted to be alone. Now I’ve been working on geometry for two hours already, and I’m still not done. If he had helped me, it would’ve taken less than an hour.
Why do I let Michelle get to me? Why can’t I just ignore everything she does? I believe Brad and trust Brad, but it still annoys me to no end that she thinks she can call him and text with him and sit next to him at lunch every day while I’m on the opposite side of the cafeteria.
The tapping continues. “Come in.” I expect Brad, but Brittany strolls through the door.
“What’s going on?” she asks, hands on hips.
“What are you doing here?”
“Michelle invited me over for movie night.”
“Michelle? This isn’t her house.”
“She said she talked to Brad about it.”
I roll my eyes. He probably called her back after I stormed off to my room.
“So, what’s going on?” Brittany asks again. “Brad sent me up here. He said he didn’t know if you were coming down or not.”
“Is Michelle there?”
“Yeah.”
I flop back on my bed.
Brittany joins me, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “Did something happen with her?”
I sigh because I want to tell her, but I can’t without revealing our secret. “No, not really. Just more of the same,” I say.
“She’s just jealous of how much time you get to spend with Brad. She wishes she could live in the bedroom down the hall from him.”
I groan, rolling on my side to face her. “She’s just really annoying, you know?”
“Yeah, I know, but if you stay up here, she wins.”
I sit up and lean against the headboard. She’s right. What do I gain by being up here? Nothing. What does she gain? An entire evening sitting next to Brad without me around. “You’re right,” I say, my mind made up. There’s no way I’m letting her share a blanket with him or snuggle next to him during a movie.
“Are you and Brad okay?” Brittany asks.
I bite my lip. “Why?”
“He seemed worried. Like you might not be talking to him or something.”
I shrug. “I just wish he’d do a better job of putting her in her place.”
“To be fair, I’m not sure her attitude would change just because Brad tells her she’s being a bitch to you.”
She’s right again, I realize, as the annoyance is replaced by the sickening gnawing I get in my stomach whenever I do something wrong. I shouldn’t take my irritation at Michelle out on him. He doesn’t deserve it. He’s done nothing but go out of his way to make me feel special. I can’t blame him for the way she acts.
“Come on,” Brittany says, pulling my up from the bed.
We both head to the basement, where I plan to secretly apologize to Brad as soon as I can. Unfortunately, the moment I step into the room, my blood boils.
Brad’s in my usual spot with Michelle right next to him.
Like right next to him.
He nudges Michelle and says, “Scoot over,” while he tries to clear some space for me.
Instead, I take the spot next to Abbie in the middle of the sofa. I try to stare straight ahead, but out of the corner of my eye, I catch the ear-to-ear smile that appears on Michelle’s face when I sit two people down from Brad.
Brittany settles near Adam, who raises his chin in greeting and then focuses back on the movie.
We sit like that for about twenty minutes. Brittany, Adam, and Abbie joke and laugh like always. Michelle keeps trying to talk to Brad, but he gives her only one- or two-word answers. I sit there fuming.
Suddenly, Brad gets up, walks to the kitchenette, and grabs a Gatorade. He chugs it, standing next to the counter. When our eyes meet, he motions with his head for me to join him.
I narrow my eyes at him instead.
He blows out a silent breath and clenches his jaw.
Michelle says, “What are you doing? You’re missing the movie.”
He replies, “I’m not feeling well. Good night.” Then he turns and heads upstairs while we all stare at his retreating figure until it’s gone.
“I should check on him,” Michelle says, jumping up. I have to resist the urge to tackle her right there in the basement. Why should she check on him? How about Adam, his best friend? Or me, his foster sister?
“Oh my God,” Abbie says, looking at me after Michelle is gone. “Just tell her you and Brad are a thing already so she’ll back off.”
My stomach drops. “We’re not a thing.”
“Uh-huh, riiiight,” Abbie says, rolling her eyes.
“We’re not,” I lie again, my eyes moving between her, Brittany, and Adam. They all give me polite smiles like you give a toddler who’s trying to tell a story, but you only understand every third word.
“What? We’re not!” I say more forcefully as my cheeks heat up.
Adam holds up his hands. “Whatever you say.” Then he focuses back on the movie.
Brittany and Abbie continue to smile at me.
“We’re not, okay? Because that would be wrong. Really, really wrong.”
“Yeah, okay, whatever,” Abbie says with a wave of her hands. “Just tell her, so their complicated stuff can be over. I’m tired of it already. I shouldn’t have to take sides between them.”
Before anyone can say anything else, Michelle, with red eyes, stomps down the staircase. “I’m leaving,” she announces when she reaches the bottom. She grabs her bag and spins around, crashing into Brad, who followed her down. She glares at him before stepping to his side and up the steps.
I hate to admit it, but seeing her obviously upset is about as exciting as that one time I got an A- on a geometry quiz. Brad must have finally told her he wasn’t interested.
“I should go with her,” Abbie says, racing up the steps.
I glance back to Brad, who’s standing in the stairwell, his arms braced against the doorframe above his head, his face tense.
“You okay?” I ask, finding it odd how the tables have turned the last few minutes. I feel on top of the world now that Michelle’s been set straight, and he looks like he wants to punch something.
He nods in silence, his jaw tight.
“Let’s get out of here,” Adam says to Brittany, standing and pulling her by the hand. When they walk past Brad, he says, “Call me later.”
Brittany waves and then winks at me, which I ignore. Then, just like that, we’re alone.
“You seem upset,” I say.
“Sometimes she drives me crazy.”
“Join the club.”
He surprises me by smiling, most of the traces of his anger disappearing. After sitting next to me on the sofa, he rests his hand on my knee and says, “The good news is she absolutely knows where I stand.”
My eyes grow wide. “She can’t know about us,” I whisper. “The others already suspect something, but at least I kind of trust them. I have absolutely zero faith in her. She’ll tell someone. I’ll get kicked out.” I’m sure she’d love it if that happened. Then she’d have Brad all to herself.
He shakes his head. “I didn’t tell her about us. I just told her I absolutely was not interested in her and never would be.”
His words make me grin uncontrollably. She needed to hear that months ago. “How’d she take it?”
“Not great,” he says with a laugh. “But you don’t need to worry about her anymore.” He puts his arm around my back and nuzzles my neck.
I kiss his cheek and scoot away before he can take things any further. “Sorry I was acting like a jealous girlfriend.”
“It was actually kind of hot. I didn’t realize you cared so much,” he says with a smirk.
“It’s just seemed like she felt as though she had a claim on you. It was annoying.”
“No claim,” he replies, shaking his head.
“Good. And Abbie will be happy.”
“Why’s that?”
“She said she was sick of taking sides between you two, so your complicated stuff needed to end.”
His eyebrows arch up. “Abbie said that? What else did she have to say?”
“Nothing.”
He sits back and watches me, almost like he’s waiting for me to say more.
“What?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious.
He shakes his head. “Nothing. You good?”
I nod.
“Really?”
I nod again, but slower. Was the complicated stuff simply that she liked him and he didn’t return the feelings, or was there more?
I bite my lip. “Actually…”
“Yeah.”
“Was there more to the Michelle situation?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why was it complicated?”
“It wasn’t complicated to me.”
I roll my eyes. “Why did Michelle and Abbie think it was complicated?”
“Because she agreed to something and then changed her mind, but didn’t bother mentioning it to me.”
“What’d she agree to?”
“Sex with no strings attached.”
My mouth drops open. “With you?”
“Yeah.”
I poke my finger into his chest. “You lied to me! You said you were a virgin.”
All this time, I trusted him. Everything he said, I believed. I never doubted him for a second, but he lied to me during one of our very first conversations. Has he continued lying? I know he lies to his family like it’s nothing, but me? If he’s been doing that, he’s no better than Chase.
“I never said that,” he replies. “You couldn’t even ask the question because you couldn’t say the word ‘virgin.’”
Okay, that may be true. And I know how he likes to push boundaries, always looking at semantics to get away with whatever he wants. “But you made me believe you were.”
“No. I told you to ask me the question, but you refused. I honestly had no idea what assumption you made.”
“I felt like I could trust you,” I say, pointing my finger at him again, my voice rising. “Have you been fooling around with her all this time? Is that why she wasn’t taking a hint?”
He lets out a long breath and pushes my accusing finger down. “First of all,” he says, “you can trust me. I don’t lie to you. I’ll never lie to you.”
My eyes stay narrowed, but I let out a breath, some of my anger escaping with it.
“Secondly, no, I haven’t been fooling around with her. This happened at the beginning of the school year. A week or two before I even met you.”
Thank God. I know we don’t officially have a relationship, but the thought of him messing around with Michelle while we’re … doing our secret thing makes me sick to my stomach.
Suddenly, uplifting music blares from the TV. The movie is still on, and the young guy finally realized his mistake and is running through the airport to find the love of his life. It’s kind of funny such an optimistic part of the movie would hit right now, in the middle of our argument.
“Plus,” Brad says, ignoring the movie, “I actually had a reason. It wasn’t like this was some drunken hook-up. We talked about it, and each wanted to practice with someone we knew and trusted. I know how ridiculous that sounds, but I’m the freaking quarterback. People expect me to have experience. I didn’t want to finally find a girl I like and be horrible in bed.”
“And you thought one time was all you needed to be good in bed?” I ask, laughing as my anger fades away as quickly as it appeared. There’s really nothing for me to be mad about. He technically didn’t lie to me, and he only slept with Michelle once, before I was even in the picture. I can’t be upset over that, even though the thought of him with her makes my skin crawl.
“Well, I could probably use some more practice,” he says with a wicked grin, and then scoops me up and pulls me onto his lap. “You in?”
I roll my eyes.
“Let me be perfectly clear,” he says, putting a finger under my chin and tilting my face up toward him. “I do not like Michelle. I have never liked her as more than a friend. I never will. It’s you.” He kisses my temple.
I hug him, then snuggle into his chest. “I’m sorry about the way I acted today.”
“It’s okay,” he says, hugging me again. “I should’ve had this talk with Michelle weeks ago. It was my bad, not yours.”
I kiss his cheek, and then I’m tempted to do more. It’d be nice to pick up our make-out session where it left off, but we’re in his house with his parents right upstairs.
With a sigh, I scoot back to the corner of the sofa to put some space between us. He frowns, but picks up my feet and lays them on his lap. While the movie continues, he absently rubs them as I start to doze off.
“Ahem!”
My eyes snap open.
Gil is standing in front of the sofa. The sofa where I’m lying with my feet still on Brad’s lap, while his head drapes over the back cushion, his mouth hanging open.
My feet scamper away from Brad, waking him in the process. “W-what’s wrong?” he asks, his face contorted in confusion, his eyes still cloudy with sleep.
“Where is everyone else?” Gil asks.
I can tell as soon as Gil’s voice registers with Brad because he snaps to attention, sitting up straight and fully waking in a fraction of a second. “Michelle drama,” he says. “Then everyone went home.”
I pull my legs to my chest and stare at the wall, afraid to see Gil’s face. Why were we so stupid? If my feet were only a few inches away, Gil would have nothing to be suspicious about. Are a few inches going to be what gets me kicked out? What sends me to some new foster home? What sends me to a new school to start all over again?
“Did you need something?” Brad asks with a yawn. I can’t tell if it’s a real yawn or he’s trying to pretend to be nonchalant about this.
“What’s going on?” Gil asks.
“What do you mean?”
He frowns. “You two seemed awfully close when I came down here.”
“Really? How so?” Brad looks between me and Gil with drawn brows, as though he hasn’t a clue what Gil is talking about.
“You were holding Hailey’s legs.”
“That’s weird. I didn’t even notice. Did you notice, Hailey?”
I gulp against the sandpaper now lining my throat.
Without waiting for an answer, Brad continues, “She must have stretched out after we fell asleep.”
Gil asks, “Can I talk to you for a second, Brad?”
“Sure, Dad.” He stands and they move to the hallway, where I can hear hushed whispers, but no actual words. It doesn’t last long. In less than a couple of minutes, Brad returns and Gil heads upstairs without saying anything else to me.
Brad lowers himself next to me, a sly smile on his face.
“What?” I ask, my heart pounding against my ribs. “Is it over? Is he calling Sherry?”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s more worried than suspicious.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me how we need to be very careful around you. He said—and I’m quoting now—you’re ‘in a fragile emotional place and close personal contact could create the potential for displaced affection and blurring of appropriate boundaries’ and then something about eroding the trust you so desperately need and then more blah, blah, blah.”
“What does all that mean?”
“He’s worried you’re going to confuse friendship with a sexual relationship and end up hurt.”
“Oh. Wow. Okay.” I don’t know what to make of his words, although they don’t leave a good taste in my mouth. “So, he thinks I’m chasing after you?”
“I wouldn’t say that. I think he thinks you’re in a difficult spot and are looking for someone to be close to. He’s fine if that’s me as long as I’m”—he mimics Gil’s voice—“‘extra vigilant in setting boundaries.’”
I scrunch my forehead as I try to understand. “He’s worried I’m going to try something with you?”
“Funny, right? If I didn’t risk losing you, I would’ve loved to tell him I’m the one trying to persuade you to play chess.”
“Oh my God,” I groan, burying my face in my hands. “How can I face him tomorrow morning when he thinks I’m trying to jump your bones?!” Brad laughs, and I peek at him between two fingers. “I’m serious, you know.”
“I know, I know,” he says, rubbing my leg. “I wouldn’t worry about it, though. He’s a psychiatrist. He sees crazy shit all the time. This is nothing for him.”
“We need to be more careful,” I say, my voice firm.
“Agreed.”
“We got sloppy.”
“Yes.”
“No more snuggling at home. It can only happen at the park from now on.”
“Or in my car.”
“If your car is at the park.”
“Okay,” he says, grabbing my hand. “You should probably head up to your room. I’m sure he’s sitting in his office, covertly keeping tabs on us. I’ll be up in about ten minutes if you want a good-night kiss.”
“Because that wouldn’t be a terrible idea at all.”
He leans over and gives me a quick, but not-at-all-innocent kiss on the mouth.
“Boundaries,” I warn him with a wag of my finger as I walk away. Even though we ended up laughing about this, we do need to be more careful. Gil could have definitely come to a different conclusion. What would have happened if he had and I was headed back to DSS tonight? I’d probably never see Brad again. I’d probably never get another placement even a fraction as good as this one.
We cannot let that happen.