Sarah Dessen - This Lullaby

Scarlett looked at me, raising her eyebrows. I said, “Really.”

“Well,” he shrugged, as if only now realizing that maybe I wasn’t the best person to say this to. Not that it stopped him: this was Ted, after all. “It’s just how he is, you know. He hooks up, things end badly, and we’re out a gig, or a place to live, or a hundred bucks in grocery money. He always does this.”

Now, standing there, I felt so stupid I was sure it showed on my face, if that was possible. I picked up Chloe’s drink-now all ice-and took a gulp from it, just to do something.

“The point is,” he growled as the beers were dropped in front of him, “if we’re going to work as a group, we have to think as a group. Period.”

And then he was gone, bumping the girls behind us hard enough to trigger a wave of curse words and lewd gestures. I was stuck there with Scarlett, looking like Band Floozy Number Five.

“Well,” Scarlett said uneasily. “I’m sure he didn’t really mean that.”

I hated that she felt sorry for me. It was even worse than feeling sorry for myself, but not by much. I turned my back to the booth-damned if I cared what happened over there now-and sat back on the stool, crossing my legs. “Whatever,” I told her. “It’s not like I don’t know the deal about Dexter.”

“Oh. Really?”

I picked up Chloe’s straw, twisting it between my fingers. “Just between you and me,” I said, “it’s kind of why I picked him in the first place. I mean, I’m off to school in the fall. I can’t have any big commitments. That’s why it’s perfect, you know. A set ending. No complications.”

“Right,” she said, steadying herself as a stray elbow bumped her from behind.

“I mean, God. All relationships should be this easy, you know? Find a cute guy in June, have fun till August, leave scot-free in September.” This was so easy to say, I realized, that it had to be the truth. Wasn’t this always what I’d said about Jonathan, and any other of my seasonal boyfriends? Of course this wasn’t different.

She nodded, but something in her face told me she wasn’t the kind of girl to believe this, much less do it herself. But then again, she had a kid. It was different when other people were at stake. I mean, in normal families.

“Yep,” I said, “just a summer boyfriend. No worries. No entanglements. Just the way I like it. I mean, it’s not like Dexter’s husband material or anything. He can’t even keep his shoes tied.”

I laughed again. God, this was so true. So true. What had I been thinking?

We stood there for a second, in a silence that was not exactly awkward but not altogether comfortable either.

She looked at her watch, then behind me, into the crowd. She seemed surprised for a second, and I figured John Miller must have given her another one of his hold-on-honey-I’m-almost-done-here waves. “Look,” she said, “I really have to go, or my sitter’s going to kill me. Can you tell John Miller I’ll see him tomorrow?”

“Sure,” I told her. “No problem.”

“Thanks, Remy. Take care, okay?”

“You too.”

I watched her walk to the door, then cut out quickly just as John Miller turned his head, looking over at us again. Too late, I thought. I scared her off. Big, bad Remy, cold bitch, was back.

“Now,” Jess said, appearing next to me, “it has got to be time to go.”

“I’m in,” Chloe said, plopping down beside me. “No decent prospects here.”

“Lissa’s doing okay,” Jess told her.

Chloe bent forward, peering down the bar. “That’s the first guy that spoke to her when she got here, so yes, we should go. If we don’t she’ll be engaged to him by last call. Lissa!”

Lissa jumped. “Yes?”

“We’re going!” Chloe slid off the stool, pulling me with her. “There’s got to be something better to do tonight. Got to be.”

“You guys,” Lissa said as she came up, fluffing her hair, “I’m talking to somebody.”

“He’s subpar,” Chloe told her, glancing at him again. He waved and smiled, poor guy. “You can do better.”

“But he’s nice,” Lissa protested. “I’ve been talking to him all night.”

“Exactly,” Jess said. “You need a variety of guys, not just one. Right, Remy?”

“Right,” I agreed. “Let’s go already.”

We were almost to the door when I saw Jonathan. He was standing by the jukebox, talking to the bouncer. I’d seen him from a distance a few times since we’d broken up, but this was the first official drive-by, so I slowed down.

“Hey Remy,” he said as we passed, reaching out, in typical fashion, to brush my arm. Normally I would have sidestepped, out of range, but this time I didn’t. He didn’t look much different, his hair a bit shorter, his skin tan. Typical summer changes, all easily undone by September. “How’ve you been?”

“Good,” I said as Chloe and Lissa walked past me, out the door. Jess I could feel hovering closer by, as if I needed reminding not to waste too much breath here. “How about you?”

“Freaking great,” he said, smiling big, and I wondered what I’d ever seen in him, with his slick looks and touchy-feely ways. Talk about subpar. I’d been bottom fishing and hadn’t even known it. Not that Dexter was much of an improvement, apparently.

“Oh, Jonathan,” I said, smiling at him and moving just a bit closer as two girls passed behind me. “You always were so modest.”

He shrugged, touching my arm again. “I was always great too. Right?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I told him, but I kept smiling. “I gotta go.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you around,” he called after me, too loudly. “Where you gonna be later? You going to that party in the Arbors?”

I reached over my head with my hand and waggled my fingers, then walked out into the thick, humid night air. Lissa had already pulled her car around, and she and Chloe were waiting, engine idling, as Jess and I came down the stairs.

“Classy,” she said to me as we slid into the backseat.

“I was just talking,” I told her, but she only turned her head, rolling down her window, and didn’t say anything.

Lissa put the car in gear and we were off. I knew Dexter would wonder where I’d gone, just like he’d probably wonder who I’d been talking to and, whoever he was, why I’d been smiling at him that way. Boys were so easy to play. And if nothing else, I gave as good as I got. He could cozy up with some chick all he wanted, but I’d be damned if I’d sit and wait while he did it.

“Where we going?” Lissa asked, turning her head and glancing back at me.

“The Arbors,” I said. “There’s a party there.”

“Now we’re talking,” Chloe said. She reached forward and cranked up the radio. And just like that, it could have been old times: the four of us, on the prowl. Earlier I’d been the odd girl out, Miss Committed, having to warm the bench while they set out into the game. But no more. And there was still so much of summer left.

We were almost out of the parking lot when I heard it. A voice, yelling after us. Chloe turned down the radio as I twisted in my seat, already wondering what I’d say when Dexter asked why I was leaving, what was the deal, how exactly I could refute that automatic assumption that this was just jealous girlfriend behavior. Which it wasn’t. Not at all.

The voice yelled again, just as I peered through the back window. But it wasn’t Dexter. It was the guy Lissa had been talking to. He called her name, looking confused as we pulled out into traffic and drove away.

It was after one when Lissa dropped me off at the end of my driveway. I took off my shoes and started across the grass, taking a sip of the Diet Zip I’d gotten on the way home from the party in the Arbors, which had turned out to be a total bust. By the time we’d gotten there the cops had already been and gone, so we’d headed to the Quik Zip to sit on the hood of Lissa’s car, talking and sharing a big bag of buttered popcorn. A good way to end what had been, for the most part, a crap night.