Part 27 (1/2)

Mom shakes her head and whispers, ”I think your sister's a bit jealous. She's been acting very much like a sullen teenager for two days.”

”I heard that!” Kika yells. ”YOU BOTH SUCK! If you want to say something about me, then say it to my face.” Kika slams one of the cupboards.

Mom shoots me a knowing glance. ”See?”

I grimace and break Mom's gaze. Thankfully, a very s.h.i.+ny black minivan pulls into the driveway. I bolt for the door. ”This is me...oh great,” I mutter. Mich.e.l.le has pulled all the way down the driveway to our porch. I'd texted her specifically to park out on the street. Teenagers-it's true-we never listen. Not even to each other.

”What's wrong?” Mom's followed me out the door. Of course she has.

”I...nothing. I hope Mich.e.l.le knows how to back up without hitting your flowers. That's all,” I cover.

Corey Nash is sitting up front waving at me like an overly excited seven year old. ”Let's go, Jordan! ThunderLand opens in exactly fifty-eight minutes. We ride the Super Splash Ride first.” I smile and wave back like I'm just dying in love.

”Is that him?” Mom whispers, smiling at Corey. ”He seems very cute.”

I answer only half of the question. ”Corey's cuter than cute. It's his specialty. Bye, Mom!” I dash down the steps, knowing Mom would try to follow. I leap through the van side door and into one of the bucket seats, but the door keeps doing some electronic self-opening thing when I yank on it to close. WTF!?

”Drive already! Before my mom blocks the driveway,” I hiss, not caring that the dumb door is still open.

”I told her not to pull in,” Gray says, sounding as stressed as I feel. I shoot him look. He's lounged in the third, bench-like back seat. I'm careful not to let my gaze linger on his intense gaze. Mich.e.l.le pushes a b.u.t.ton up front and the door finally slides closed.

”See you tomorrow, Corey!” My mom is waving at the front of the van like a dork.

Corey, thankfully, just keeps waving back. ”What did she mean about seeing me tomorrow?”

”Heck if I know. She's constantly confused these days,” I cover.

Mich.e.l.le carefully backs the minivan into the street.

”Jess, don't buckle up there. Sit back here with me,” Gray calls out.

”G.o.d. So whipped. Move back there-cuddle buns. I like to make my seat go flat so I don't have to watch Mich.e.l.le's lack of driving skills on the freeway.” Corey reclines his chair, almost crus.h.i.+ng me. When I don't budge, he glances back with a questioning look. Unable to come up with a reason not to move, I weave back to the far bench and scoot next to Gray.

Corey pulls out his iPod and plugs it into the jack that connects it to the stereo. ”Any requests back there?”

I try to buckle, but Gray is leaning in, apparently to scan my face. ”Play something quiet. Soothing. If Jess is tired, she's going to need to nap.” He picks up my hand and clicks my buckle in place for me.

”I'm not tired.” I pull my hand away to adjust my strap.

”I can tell from your face that you didn't sleep last night. Don't deny it.”

”I've got you to thank for that.”

”Ha! It must have been that looooove letter.” Mich.e.l.le pipes up from the driver's seat. ”And what about your face, Gray Porter. I can tell you didn't sleep much, either!”

I give Gray an a.s.sessing glower. He does look tired. ”Hard to sleep when your girlfriend won't text you back,” he says quietly.

I whisper, ”I'm not going to be your-”

”Shhh. Don't start.”

My hand moves to my pocket. ”Wait! Mich.e.l.le, can you go back? I forgot my phone.” Panicking a little, I picture where I'd left the phone. I'd been meaning to plug it into the kitchen charger during breakfast, but then I forgot. Hopefully it's camouflaged within the clutter and magazines on the mail table and no one will spot it. If they do, Mom and Kika won't be able to resist messing with it.

”Heck no! We will not turn back. You can use one of ours if you need to.” Mich.e.l.le insists.

”Dude. It's probably for the best. Last year I dropped my phone into the Lazy River. It freaking sucked,” says Corey.

”Dude. She's not a dude,” Gray grumbles.

”Whoa. Someone's cranky back there.” Mich.e.l.le makes a face at Gray in the rearview mirror. Mich.e.l.le continues, ”Here's how this is going to go. Anyone who's tired had better catch up. I won't have people p.o.o.ping out on me after lunch. We only get ThunderLand once a summer. So both of you whiners, snuggle up and nap it out. You know you want to.”

The strains of Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon alb.u.m fills the van.

”How's this for mellow?” Corey calls out.

”I love this alb.u.m,” Mich.e.l.le's voice has faded, far to the front. ”Turn it up, would-ya?”

”I bet you don't love this alb.u.m as much as I love...Y. O. U.” Corey turns the volume k.n.o.b until I can't hear their conversation.

Gray quirks a brow. ”I could use a little shut eye, but if you want me to stay awake, and watch over you...”

”G.o.d. Don't you dare use that voice on me. It's not fair.”

”What?”

”You know how you sound when you talk all quiet like that! All low, s.e.xy and rock star, brainwas.h.i.+ng perfect. You do it on purpose to mess with my head.”

He laughs. ”You have to know you're the only one who has ever spouted such ridiculousness. But I'm glad you like my voice.” He puts his arm around me. My back is ram-rod straight. I don't know if I can take him touching me like it's normal. But I also don't know if I can take it if he doesn't. ”You read none of my text messages last night? None?” he asks, looking deeply into my eyes.

”Honest. I turned off my phone. Then the charge died because, yes, I slept some and forgot to deal with it. So I plugged it in the kitchen during breakfast.”

”And?” He raises a brow.

”And because I didn't want to talk to you-or read any more of your writing. That letter was difficult enough for me to handle.”

”You aren't making this very easy on me. Do you want to read what I said on my phone? Now?” he offers, holding up his cell. ”Or are you going to make me repeat everything?”

”No matter what you texted me, I won't budge. We're at an impa.s.se. I also brought back your check,” I say. But my resolve is weakening and I am unable to resist settling back against his too comfortable arm.

He sighs, looking frustrated. ”Keep the check. For today. Let's just try to hang out minus the money hanging between us. It will be just us. Two people, on a date, at an amus.e.m.e.nt park. One step at a time. You read the whole letter though. Every word of it?”

”Yes. Every misguided word.” I wonder if he can tell by looking at my face that I read it three thousand, nine hundred and ninety times.

”And you do, don't you? Love me just a little? Because I'll say it again. Right now, to your face. I straight up love you, Jess Jordan. I'll shout it if it will help plead my case. But I have to at least get that point across before one more minute pa.s.ses.”