Lola and the Boy Next Door
Page 33
He pauses. “Shit.”
There’s a rude snort in the kitchen doorway, and I’m about to completely lose it.
“I’m sorry.” Now Max does sound pissed off. “I didn’t realize this conversation was any of your business.”
Norah gives a cruel smile. “You’re right. What would I know about a teenage girl running away and getting into trouble with her boyfriend?”
“I didn’t run away,” I protest as Max says, “You’re out of line.”
She strolls into the kitchen and out of sight. “Am I?” she calls out.
I want to die. “I’m so sorry. For all of this.”
“Don’t apologize.” He’s harsh. “I’m not here for them. I’m here for you.”
The office door bangs open, and Nathan marches straight upstairs to their bedroom without looking at us. Andy gives a tense, fake smile. “Dinner in ten minutes.”
Nathan has changed out of his work clothes. He’s trying, but barely. I didn’t know it was possible to pass a dish of vegetarian lasagna with such hostility. “So. Max. How was the show in L.A.? We didn’t realize you’d be back so soon.”
Could this get any worse?
“It was in Santa Monica, and it went well. We’ve booked two more shows there.”
Yes. It could get worse.
“Do you plan on doing a lot of touring?” Andy asks. I can’t decide if he sounds hopeful or skeptical.
“We’d like to do more. I don’t want to read meters for the rest of my life.”
“So you think this is a valid career choice?” Nathan asks. “You think it’s reasonable to expect success?”
“OH MY GOD,” I say.
Nathan holds up his hands in apology, but he doesn’t say anything. Max stews silently beside me. Norah stares out the window, no doubt longing to be anywhere but here. I scrape the spinach lasagna across my plate without picking it up.
“I only mentioned the show,” Nathan says a minute later, “because it was unfortunate that it meant you had to miss our trip. We went to Muir Woods with—”
“A picnic basket!” I say.
Nathan gives me a smug expression. It was a test. He was testing me, to see if Max knew about the trip with Cricket.
“You didn’t miss anything,” I say. “Besides the food. Of course.”
Max smells the lie, though he doesn’t dare approach it in front of my parents. But I feel the wall build between us.
“Hey, I have an idea,” I say. “Let’s talk about Norah.”
“Lola,” Andy says.
She snaps her head toward me as if coming out of a trance. “What?” And then she blinks. “What are you wearing?”
“Excuse me?”
“What is that? What are you supposed to be?”
I’m in a dress with rainbow tulle poking out from underneath, and my hair is in two long braids that I’ve gelled with glitter. I glare at her. “Me. I’m me.”
Norah frowns her disapproval, and Nathan turns to her. “Enough. Back off.”
“Of course she has the right to complain about my wardrobe.” I gesture to her saggy sweater, the one she’s had forever that’s the color of oatmeal left in the sink. “She’s clearly on the cutting edge of fashion.”
Max smirks.
“O-kaaaay!” Andy jumps up. “Who wants pie?”
“Wait until you see my dress for the winter formal,” I tell Norah. “It’s big and it’s lavish and it’s beautiful, and you’re just going to love it.”
Norah jerks her face back toward the window. Like she has any right to feel hurt after attacking me. Max stiffens again, and Nathan can’t resist pouncing upon it. “What will you wear to the dance, Max?”
“He’ll wear a tux,” I snap. “I wouldn’t make him wear a matching costume.”
Max stands. “I gotta go.”
I burst into tears. Nathan looks shamed. Max takes my hand and walks me to the front door. We step outside. I don’t care that I’m grounded. “I’m s-sorry.”
This time he doesn’t tell me not to apologize. “That was messed up, Lola.”
“I know.”
“So tell me, did Nathan approve of Norah’s ‘career choice’ as a fortune-teller?”
I feel sick. “It won’t be that bad on Sunday.”
“Sunday.” Max lifts a dark brow. “Brunch. Right.” He drops my hand and puts his own in his pockets. “So are you serious about that dance?”
I’m startled. I’ve talked about my dress a hundred times before. I wipe the tears from my cheeks, wishing I had something other than my fingers. “What?”
“Lola. I’m twenty-two.” Max reacts quickly to my crushed expression. He reaches for both of my hands this time, and he draws me into and against his body. “But if it makes you happy, I’ll do it. If I can survive these stupid meals, I can survive one stupid dance.”
I hate that it sounds like a punishment.
Chapter seventeen
Ta-da!” St. Clair bursts into the lobby with the flourish of a magician. He’s showing off for Anna as he always does. It’s Thursday, and he isn’t scheduled to work, but of course he’s here anyway. Though tonight is different.
He’s brought someone.
Here’s the thing about Cricket Bell. You can’t NOT notice him when he walks into a room. The first thing that registers is his height, but it’s quickly followed by recognition of his energy. He moves gracefully like his sister, but with an enthusiasm he can’t quite seem to control—the constantly moving body, hands, feet. He’s been subdued the last few times I’ve seen him, but he’s fully revived now.
“Anna,” St. Clair says. “This is Cricket.”
Cricket dwarfs St. Clair. They look like Rocky and Bullwinkle, and the comfortable manner between them makes it appear they’ve been friends just as long. I suppose when one overly kind person and one overly outgoing person become friends, it’s easy like that.
Anna smiles. “We keep missing each other in the dorm. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise,” Cricket says. “I’ve heard nothing but good things. In fact, if I weren’t standing next to your boyfriend, I’d be tempted to ask you out myself.”
There’s a rude snort in the kitchen doorway, and I’m about to completely lose it.
“I’m sorry.” Now Max does sound pissed off. “I didn’t realize this conversation was any of your business.”
Norah gives a cruel smile. “You’re right. What would I know about a teenage girl running away and getting into trouble with her boyfriend?”
“I didn’t run away,” I protest as Max says, “You’re out of line.”
She strolls into the kitchen and out of sight. “Am I?” she calls out.
I want to die. “I’m so sorry. For all of this.”
“Don’t apologize.” He’s harsh. “I’m not here for them. I’m here for you.”
The office door bangs open, and Nathan marches straight upstairs to their bedroom without looking at us. Andy gives a tense, fake smile. “Dinner in ten minutes.”
Nathan has changed out of his work clothes. He’s trying, but barely. I didn’t know it was possible to pass a dish of vegetarian lasagna with such hostility. “So. Max. How was the show in L.A.? We didn’t realize you’d be back so soon.”
Could this get any worse?
“It was in Santa Monica, and it went well. We’ve booked two more shows there.”
Yes. It could get worse.
“Do you plan on doing a lot of touring?” Andy asks. I can’t decide if he sounds hopeful or skeptical.
“We’d like to do more. I don’t want to read meters for the rest of my life.”
“So you think this is a valid career choice?” Nathan asks. “You think it’s reasonable to expect success?”
“OH MY GOD,” I say.
Nathan holds up his hands in apology, but he doesn’t say anything. Max stews silently beside me. Norah stares out the window, no doubt longing to be anywhere but here. I scrape the spinach lasagna across my plate without picking it up.
“I only mentioned the show,” Nathan says a minute later, “because it was unfortunate that it meant you had to miss our trip. We went to Muir Woods with—”
“A picnic basket!” I say.
Nathan gives me a smug expression. It was a test. He was testing me, to see if Max knew about the trip with Cricket.
“You didn’t miss anything,” I say. “Besides the food. Of course.”
Max smells the lie, though he doesn’t dare approach it in front of my parents. But I feel the wall build between us.
“Hey, I have an idea,” I say. “Let’s talk about Norah.”
“Lola,” Andy says.
She snaps her head toward me as if coming out of a trance. “What?” And then she blinks. “What are you wearing?”
“Excuse me?”
“What is that? What are you supposed to be?”
I’m in a dress with rainbow tulle poking out from underneath, and my hair is in two long braids that I’ve gelled with glitter. I glare at her. “Me. I’m me.”
Norah frowns her disapproval, and Nathan turns to her. “Enough. Back off.”
“Of course she has the right to complain about my wardrobe.” I gesture to her saggy sweater, the one she’s had forever that’s the color of oatmeal left in the sink. “She’s clearly on the cutting edge of fashion.”
Max smirks.
“O-kaaaay!” Andy jumps up. “Who wants pie?”
“Wait until you see my dress for the winter formal,” I tell Norah. “It’s big and it’s lavish and it’s beautiful, and you’re just going to love it.”
Norah jerks her face back toward the window. Like she has any right to feel hurt after attacking me. Max stiffens again, and Nathan can’t resist pouncing upon it. “What will you wear to the dance, Max?”
“He’ll wear a tux,” I snap. “I wouldn’t make him wear a matching costume.”
Max stands. “I gotta go.”
I burst into tears. Nathan looks shamed. Max takes my hand and walks me to the front door. We step outside. I don’t care that I’m grounded. “I’m s-sorry.”
This time he doesn’t tell me not to apologize. “That was messed up, Lola.”
“I know.”
“So tell me, did Nathan approve of Norah’s ‘career choice’ as a fortune-teller?”
I feel sick. “It won’t be that bad on Sunday.”
“Sunday.” Max lifts a dark brow. “Brunch. Right.” He drops my hand and puts his own in his pockets. “So are you serious about that dance?”
I’m startled. I’ve talked about my dress a hundred times before. I wipe the tears from my cheeks, wishing I had something other than my fingers. “What?”
“Lola. I’m twenty-two.” Max reacts quickly to my crushed expression. He reaches for both of my hands this time, and he draws me into and against his body. “But if it makes you happy, I’ll do it. If I can survive these stupid meals, I can survive one stupid dance.”
I hate that it sounds like a punishment.
Chapter seventeen
Ta-da!” St. Clair bursts into the lobby with the flourish of a magician. He’s showing off for Anna as he always does. It’s Thursday, and he isn’t scheduled to work, but of course he’s here anyway. Though tonight is different.
He’s brought someone.
Here’s the thing about Cricket Bell. You can’t NOT notice him when he walks into a room. The first thing that registers is his height, but it’s quickly followed by recognition of his energy. He moves gracefully like his sister, but with an enthusiasm he can’t quite seem to control—the constantly moving body, hands, feet. He’s been subdued the last few times I’ve seen him, but he’s fully revived now.
“Anna,” St. Clair says. “This is Cricket.”
Cricket dwarfs St. Clair. They look like Rocky and Bullwinkle, and the comfortable manner between them makes it appear they’ve been friends just as long. I suppose when one overly kind person and one overly outgoing person become friends, it’s easy like that.
Anna smiles. “We keep missing each other in the dorm. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise,” Cricket says. “I’ve heard nothing but good things. In fact, if I weren’t standing next to your boyfriend, I’d be tempted to ask you out myself.”
