Connecting (Lily Dale #3)(9)

Walking into the cafeteria, Calla looks around for Blue Slayton.

There he is, at his usual table, surrounded by his usual group of friends.

She hesitates before starting in his direction, first checking to see whether Jacy’s here. Sometimes he skips lunch to go outside, which is against the rules—not that he seems to care.

He told Calla he has a hard time getting through the entire day cooped up indoors.

“It’s bad for the soul,” was how he put it.

As luck would have it, he’s here today, alone at a table with a sandwich and a book. Calla can’t help but notice that he— unlike anyone else sitting solo in the cafeteria—looks perfectly content not to have company. In fact, he looks as though he actually prefers it that way.

She decides to go over to Blue first, figuring Jacy has yet to realize she’s in the room—not that he’d do anything about it if he did.

“Hey, Calla,” Blue says, in the process of devouring a double lunch. “What’s up?”

As always, she’s struck by his looks: gorgeous, wavy light-brown hair and piercing eyes that do justice to his name. It takes her a moment to remember what’s up.

Oh, yeah.

Acutely aware that all his friends are listening in, she shifts her weight and says in a low voice, “You know how we’re supposed to—”

“Wait, what?”

She clears her throat and begins again, louder.“You know how we’re supposed to go out on Saturday night?”

“No,” he says blankly, and for a moment, she thinks she’s made an embarrassing mistake.

“I thought we were supposed to go to the movies Saturday . . .”

“Nope.”

“Oh . . .” Not sure what to say, she wonders how she could have possibly screwed things up like this. Maybe it was just wishful thinking?

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later,” she says, and starts to walk away.

“Calla?”

She turns back. “Yeah?”

Blue breaks into a grin. “Gotcha.”

“Oh.” She chokes out a staccato laugh. “Yeah. You sure did. You got me.”

And it’s not really all that funny—to her, anyway. But Blue’s friends are cracking up like they’re watching some juvenile YouTube clip.

“So, what about Saturday night?” Blue asks, and at least he has the grace to pull his chair slightly away from the table. Not that his friends aren’t continuing to listen in anyway.

“It turns out my dad’s coming to visit this weekend.”

“Again? Wasn’t he just here?”

“Not ‘just’—I mean, it’s been a few weeks, and . . . he’s coming tomorrow. So maybe we can go out a different night.”

“You can’t go out Saturday?”

“No, I just said, my dad’s—”

“I know, but . . . I mean, you spend every second with him when he’s in town?” Blue asks.

She wonders if the cocky attitude is for his friends’ benefit or if he honestly doesn’t get that she wants to be with her dad. It probably sounds immature to him, like she’s some kind of daddy’s girl.

“Forget it,” she says, hating that she even cares what he thinks of her. “We don’t need to go out a different night. That’s fine.”

“So, you can go Saturday?”

“No, I just told you I can’t. I mean, forget it, forget it.” She just isn’t in the mood for this today.

Blue looks taken aback. “How’s Sunday night? Is he gone then?”

“Yeah . . .”

“Then we’ll go out Sunday. Okay?”

“Are you sure?”

“Not a problem.” He flashes her his familiar, easy grin. She wonders if maybe she was too hard on him just now. He really is a good guy. He just likes to tease, and he doesn’t understand what it’s like when you never get to see your dad.

Then again . . .

Of course he knows what that’s like.

His own father is always on the road.

All right, then maybe she struck a nerve with him.

Whatever.

“Sunday night’s good,” she tells him, and manages a smile.

“Great. I’ll call you later, after soccer practice.” With a wave, he goes back to his friends.

Relieved to have that over, Calla goes through the line to buy a salad, a yogurt, and a bottle of water, though she doesn’t have much of an appetite now.

She’s about to join her friends Willow and Sarita at their usual table when she remembers Jacy. Glancing in his direction, she catches him staring right at her over the top of his book.

Not wanting to drop her tray, she doesn’t dare wave at him.

It doesn’t matter; he’s already focused on his book again. She decides to go over to say hello anyway. They haven’t had much opportunity to talk in any of their classes lately, and she hasn’t seen him outside of school.

“Hi, Jacy.”

“Hey.” He looks up only briefly.

“How’ve you been?”

“Pretty good.” He turns a page in his book, obviously engrossed.

“That’s good.” She pauses. “Uh, what’re you reading?”