Along Came Jordan Read online

  Chapter Three

  Dad picked me up after the meeting. I was heading downstairs when Laine caught up with me.

  "You need a ride home again?"

  "My dad's coming."

  "You should've asked me."

  "Didn't know you'd be at the meeting."

  Laine yanked on my arm, stopping me mid-step. "I told you I'm involved in everything. All you need to do is check with me."

  I attempted a pleasant expression.

  "Want to spend the night tomorrow? We can go to the game and then you can come home with me."

  I almost fell down the rest of the stairs. "What?"

  "I'm asking if you want to spend the night." Her voice was tight, and she started tapping her heel on the rubber strip of the step.

  "I'd have to ask," I said to give myself a moment. Why would she want me to spend the night? My mind whirled. Was it part of her plan to control me?

  "Your dad's probably here, so let's go ask him now."

  Boy, she didn't waste any time. I tried to figure out how to say no without making her mad, but she was already dragging me out of the school. "Which car is your dad's?"

  I pointed to the blue sedan. "He's over there."

  She dropped my arm and ran to the driver's side. By the time I caught up and climbed into the car, Dad was chuckling.

  "Sure, she can stay, and thanks for asking." The happiness in his voice saturated the air.

  He answered for me?

  Laine tapped the palm of her hand on the car door. "Okay then." She bent down and eyed me through Dad's open window. "It's a go. See you tomorrow."

  Dad waved, and we took off. "What a nice girl, and you're already making friends. I'm so relieved, Emili. I can't tell you how relieved."

  "Then why don't you go to the sleepover instead, since you're so keen on it?"

  "What's that supposed to mean?" He glanced at me, his eyebrows drawn together into a tight line, and then focused again on the road.

  "Sorry, long day. Never mind." I guessed spending one night at Laine's wouldn't kill me.

  Dad coughed and grabbed a hanky out of his pocket. Was he getting sick now, on top of everything else?

  "How was your day?" He changed topics, and his voice switched to a lively tone. It was so forced and fake, my insides cringed.

  "Fine," I answered. "I have a lot of homework, though."

  I knew he wanted me to say, "Super, great, so glad I got to change schools. Wow, thanks for losing your job. And thanks for forcing me to spend the night with Laine." Guilt hovered over him like thick fog. I knew a few words from me could ease it.

  Open your mouth, Emili. Be nice.

  "The truth is, it was a good day. I met some more kids, and I joined Environmental Club, which was fun."

  His sigh of relief suffocated me. I'd said the right thing.

  Earlier, I'd promised myself I'd never lie to anyone again — what a failure.

  Sarah was already home when we got there. She was sprawled on the couch, and her left leg rested on a stack of pillows. "Two days in a row, you weren't on the bus. Thanks a lot for deserting me with no warning."

  I threw my backpack on the stuffed chair next to the TV. "Sorry. I didn't know I was staying late."

  "You'd have a fit if I did that to you."

  I let out my breath in a whoosh. "I know, and you're right. Sorry."

  "I sat all by myself."

  "I said I was sorry."

  Sarah stood up in a huff. "Well, excuuuuse me for being alive."

  "Girls, don't fight." Dad's voice was listless, tired, as if he'd done something besides spend the whole afternoon on his rear.

  "We're not fighting. Sarah, drop it." I went to the kitchen to look for something to eat.

  "Don't eat anything. Dinner will be in thirty minutes."

  It used to be Dad wouldn't have touched a pan, but now life was upside down. At least it was a good deal for Mom — saved her some work. She needed the help, too, because she got crabbier by the day — no, by the hour.

  I picked up my backpack and headed for my room. Before I shut my door, I heard muffled sobs coming from Sarah's room. I knocked on her door.

  "Go away!" she said.

  I opened the door, and she was in front of her mirror inspecting her own puffy face and tears.

  "I hate it," she said, hiccupping. "I want to go back to Bates."

  I shut her door. "Be quiet. Dad will hear you."

  "I don't care. It's his fault!"

  "It's not his fault he lost his job. He's unhappy about it, too. You're old enough to understand — we can't afford tuition anymore." I sat on her bed and patted the space beside me. "Sit."

  She dragged herself to the bed and plunked down. "The kids make fun of me. They call me Milk Girl." She sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "They hate me. I'm such a screw-up. I'll never have friends again."

  I put my arm around her. "Yes, you will. It takes time. I promise it'll be okay."

  Sarah pressed her cheek into my shoulder. "No, it won't. I want to crawl into a hole and never come out."

  "It'll be okay, Sarah. It will." I hugged her, resting my chin on the top of her head.

  Another lie.

  ****

  Margo met me at the heavy double doors the next morning.

  "Where's Sally?" I asked.

  "Beats me. Late, I guess." Margo's Spanish lilt was somehow always stronger in the morning.

  "I went to EC. Why didn't you warn me about Laine being there?"

  "Ay, we didn't, did we? Sorry. Laine's everywhere, so I guess we didn't worry about it. Hey, what did you think of Jordan? He was there, wasn't he?"

  "Like you said, he's hot."

  "Right? I could melt over his eyes."

  "Then why aren't you going after him? Why try to set him up with me?"

  Margo looked down at her feet, sighed, and then raised her face as if in confession. "I did go after him, but he was only interested in Pamela. It was Pamela this and Pamela that. When their relationship went south, he didn't care about anyone, so we settled on being good friends."

  "Friends can become more than friends easy enough."

  "Yes, but there's Sally."

  "She wants him, too?"

  "Yeah. We made a pact, and neither of us gets him."

  "How do I join the pact?"

  "No, no, we talked it out. If you get him, then Laine won't." She raised her eyebrows and leaned in like a private detective. "It's settled."

  "Kind of forgetting something, aren't you?"

  "Like what?"

  "Don't you think Jordan and I should have some say?"

  Margo laughed and shook her head. "No. Hey, here comes Sally."

  Sally rushed over, her braid swishing behind her. "Sorry I'm late. It's all my fault. I tried to get some extra practicing in, but Mom threw a tizzy fit. I was forced to give up and come."

  "We've only got a minute left," Margo said, looking at her watch.

  "Laine asked me to spend the night," I blurted.

  They both froze, eyes wide. Together, they turned like synchronized swimmers, speaking in unison. "What?"

  "I know. Weird, right?"

  "Are you going?" Margo asked, her forehead creased into a question.

  "I got stuck. She asked my dad, and he agreed."

  "You still could've said no," Sally said, pursing her lips.

  "I didn't have the chance. Honest."

  Margo tapped her fingers on her chin and nodded. "Laine's nervous. She wants to keep track of you."

  "Still seems over-the-top to me," Sally said. "No offense, Emili, but you're not that cute."

  Margo snorted. "Oh, I don't know. She's got a certain something. Besides, I think Jordan could be interested, which will slay Laine."

  They were analyzing me like a third-grade science project. I opened my mouth to protest, and the warning bell rang.

  "We have to go. C'mon, Emili. See ya, Margo." Sally hoisted her backpack higher onto her shoulder, and we took off.


  It made no sense, but agreeing to spend the night at Laine's made me feel like a traitor.

  ****

  I dreaded the football game Friday evening. When Laine and I arrived, the stands were packed, and the roar from the crowd was already deafening. Edgemont's band was massive, and they played as if it was a national competition. Excitement glutted the air — it was going to be a sure win tonight. We never had such huge crowds at Bates. This massive mob was a whole other world. On the sidelines, at least fifteen cheerleaders were doing flips, but the real surprise was that Laine wasn't out there cheering with them.

  She must've read my mind, because she said, "I was head JV cheerleader, but I hurt my knee during basketball last year. My doctor made me swear off." She surveyed the cheerleaders. "Not to brag, but what a loss. I mean, look at them."

  I rolled my eyes. She should be nominated for Miss Arrogance.

  I steeled myself for a long night. I didn't plan to talk much. I figured I'd listen. If Laine planned on scoping me out, I could play the same game. I could get some dope on her. We started up the bleachers, and Laine spoke in my ear. "Did you hear what I said?"

  "About you being a cheerleader? Yeah, but I didn't know you wanted an answer."

  She shook her head. "Jealousy comes in all sizes."

  I felt like taking a swing. She wasn't making this easy.

  Once we settled ourselves in the top row, I saw Laine's sidekick, Janae, climbing the bleachers to meet us. "Hey, Laine, I waited for your call. You were supposed to give me a ride."

  Laine gave her a look of pure exasperation. "I can't be expected to do everything, can I? Emili needed a ride, too."

  Janae threw me a knife-sharp glare.

  "We could've picked her up on the way." My voice sounded apologetic, which annoyed me. As if any of this was my fault.

  Laine smiled, and her voice turned all sweet and cooing. "You're right, Emili. Sorry, Janae. Do you need a ride home?"

  Janae stared at the football field. "Don't bother. Mom's coming for me."

  Laine shrugged her shoulders. "Okay. Then there's no problem, and everybody's happy."

  Oh yeah, I'm giddy with glee.

  After the game — and Edgemont did win — Laine and I cruised to her house in her pale yellow convertible. A handful of fake pink flowers hung in a vase next to the steering wheel. I had to admit, it was kind of cute. We wound through the streets till we reached Langston Estates. Whoa. Never been in that part of town.

  Laine drove two blocks and then turned into the driveway of a sprawling two-story home. The drive was bordered by hedges and stone pillars. Lamps hung at regular intervals. The house was a mixture of white brick and stone, and lights from the windows glittered like a Christmas tree. They gave the grounds an eerie middle-of-the-day glow.

  Laine parked her car by the front door. "Charles will get it later."

  "Charles?"

  "The butler."

  Butler? Was I even in Indiana?

  I was suddenly aware my left shoe had a hole in it. I grabbed my overnight bag — hoping it didn't look too shabby — and followed her into the house. A man in a neat black suit welcomed us. Charles, I assumed.

  "We'll be in my room," Laine said. "Would you ask Delia to bring us something to eat?"

  "Very good," he said and bowed.

  Actually bowed! I was in a flippin' movie set.

  I followed Laine up a wide, graceful staircase, winding around what appeared to be a ballroom with polished marble floors. The room was empty except for heavy wooden chairs spaced along paneled walls that were waxed to a high gleam. I could hardly peel myself away from the banister. "Wow."

  "Yeah, I know. Mom throws events. She always has. It's her thing. She's got the money for it."

  "Where is she?"

  Laine's foot froze in mid-air. I jerked to a stop before plowing into her. Then — as if nothing had happened — she continued up, silent as a frosty morning.

  Okay, what was that all about?

  We reached the top and started down a wide hallway, tiled in red. Portraits flanked the walls on both sides. Not those stuffy portraits you see in museums. These people were smiling, and a few of the women looked as though they were passing out bedroom invitations. I turned away.

  "Here we are." Laine pushed open a bulky oak door midway down the hall.

  I walked inside, and against my will, my mouth dropped open. It was a full-out Fairy Land. Ruffled white curtains framed each paned window, and plush white carpet as deep as a wading pool stretched across the floor. Two beds with sheer purple canopies hugged opposite walls, and on each bed was a thick quilted spread stitched with pink flowers. Twinkle lights ran up and down every bedpost. I half expected to see a crown of diamonds resting on the antique dresser.

  "You have two beds?" If she'd brought me here to impress me, it was working.

  "I have people over a lot. It's easier."

  I thought of the dozens of times my ex-friend Farah and I had squished into my narrow double bed. We were always bopping each other in the face by accident. I guess I wouldn't have to worry about hitting anyone around here. I noticed a massive flat screen TV on the wall, next to an open door leading into a ginormous walk-in closet. From where I stood, the closet was as big as my bedroom. There was a second door, which was shut. I guessed it was the bathroom.

  "I sleep on this one," Laine said, pointing to the bed furthest from the closet. "Put your bag anywhere. You want to watch something?"

  I placed my bag on the rug, and it sank three inches. "I don't care."

  This whole scenario was weird. I felt as comfortable as a gymnast on crutches. I still wasn't certain why Laine had zeroed in on me.

  "We can talk." Laine came over and flounced on the edge of my bed. I sat beside her and felt the plush mattress's welcoming bounce. A bell rang. Laine jumped up, ran to the wall, and pushed a button. "Yes, Delia?"

  A voice echoed over the speaker. "Will hot chocolate and toast work for you and your friend, miss?"

  "Sounds wonderful," Laine answered. She returned to the bed.

  Laine seemed to be waiting for me to speak. "Sure, we can talk if you want," I finally said.

  Laine studied my face like a food inspector at a hamburger joint. "I thought we could get to know each other better."

  I squirmed under her gaze. This was stranger by the minute.

  "A normal girl," I answered, shifting again on the bed. The mattress was no longer so comfortable.

  Laine held up her hand. "I don't think so. You're not normal."

  "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm as regular as they come."

  She drew her lips into a pout and then shrugged. "Dating anyone?"

  "No. Don't want to, either."

  "Girls always say that, but they never mean it."

  "I mean it."

  "I saw the way you looked at Jordan yesterday."

  I rolled my eyes. "Uh, who wouldn't look at him? The guy's a hunk. Doesn't mean I'm interested."

  "Everyone's interested. I'm warning you — as a friend, of course — we're nearly a couple."

  "I thought he was blubbering over someone named Pamela."

  "Not anymore." Laine slid off the bed and walked to the large wooden dresser. She fiddled with the diamond-shaped knobs. "She's long gone. Ancient history."

  A look of warning passed over Laine's face, and I realized Sally and Margo had been right. Laine was staking her claim and peeing around Jordan. He was the reason for my invitation. A caution sign was flashing over her head pointed directly at me.

  There was a knock at the door. "Come in, Delia." A look of superiority pulled down the corners of Laine's mouth.

  A short chubby woman with silver hair and a light blue uniform entered, holding a tray with two steaming mugs and a plate of toast. Her face was pleasant but as blank as a broken screen. "Here you are, miss. I'll collect it in the morning."

  "Fine," Laine said.

  The woman set the tray on the corner of the dresser and left, cl
osing the door with a businesslike click.

  Laine handed me a mug then grabbed the other. I put both hands around the cup, and the radiating heat nearly burned my skin. We both took a piece of toast and began munching.

  "You have a butler and a cook?" I asked.

  "Delia's not the cook. She's the housekeeper."

  "So you have a cook, too?" I couldn't imagine.

  "Sometimes, but Mom cooks a lot. She likes it. Says it relaxes her." Laine blew into her cup, and puffs of steam came my way. She took a noisy slurp. "Did you have a guy at Bates?"

  I sighed. "Ancient history, like Jordan and Pamela. Don't want to talk about it, either."

  Laine got up and walked into her closet. I set my cocoa down on the bedside table and reached over to grab my bag from the floor. I pulled out my tee shirt and sweats and put them on. Laine came back from her closet, wearing what looked like a gymnast's outfit. It was pink with blue stripes running down each side. It hugged her body, showing off her way-better-than-mine-ever-could-be figure.

  Confession: Jealousy bites upon seeing a girl who isn't shaped like a stick.

  I wasn't in the mood to be jealous of Laine. Was this part of her plot?

  "Bathroom's in there when you need it." Laine headed toward the closed door. "I'll be right out."

  When she was finished, I took my turn and went in to wash off my makeup and use the toilet.

  After a few minutes, I came out and was surprised to hear country music playing on her tablet speaker system. Somehow, I hadn't figured her for a Nashville fan — didn't seem to fit her slick Paris look.

  "You never told me where your mom was," I said, sensing I should keep my mouth shut.

  "No, I didn't."

  "Well?"

  She snapped off the light, and I heard her crawl into bed. "You don't want to talk about your guy at Bates, and I don't want to talk about Mother."

  She had a point.

  "Fair enough," I said. "But if you ever want to—"

  "We're not BFFs, Emili." Her voice was cement-hard.

  "Why did you even ask me over?"

  "Uh, did you think I asked you because I wanted to be buddies?" Her pitying tone scraped on me like fingers over a cheese grater.