She Drives Me Crazy(45)

“You look tired, Scots,” Dad says. “Why don’t you get up to bed and rest those sore muscles?”

I don’t fight him on it. Upstairs, in the cool dark of my bedroom, I slip beneath my quilt and scroll through my phone to get my mind off things. The problem is, the exact opposite happens. One of the Cleveland triplets has posted a video of Irene kissing me.

And we look … good. We look real. We look like we fit together.

I feel breathless all over again.

But almost like a reflex, my next thought goes to Tally. She will no doubt see this. Will it pierce her heart, the way watching her kiss that girl at Charlotte’s party pierced mine? Will she see the feelings written on my face? Will she believe I’ve truly moved on from her?

Should I even be thinking about Tally anymore?

“Did it feel the way you hoped it would?” Irene asked me in the car.

Maybe it did earlier tonight, but it doesn’t anymore. Because I definitely never expected that only hours after beating Candlehawk in the Christmas Classic, I would fall asleep crying.





13


Holiday break begins with a rainstorm. It never gets cold enough to snow before Christmas, but I guess something has to fall down from the sky. For two days, rain lashes the windows and pushes our inflatable snowman decorations onto the grass. We stay indoors and feed our boredom with Christmas movies. When we get tired of that, Thora insists we stage the holiday card she wants to send from her family.

“You mean our family?” I ask.

“No, I mean Pickles, BooBoo, and myself.”

She dresses in green velvet and lounges in front of the fireplace with the cats in her arms. Daphne captures three whole photos before Pickles scratches his way free.

When the weather finally clears, Danielle and I go shopping for family gifts. Daphne tags along, which I’m grateful for, because it means Danielle won’t have a chance to ask about Irene. We make our way around town, hitting up the mall, the bookstore, and Balthazar’s Antiques. None of us suggests treading into Candlehawk.

“Is Thora working today?” Danielle asks after we dip into a beauty store for some bath bombs. “We should go by The Chimney. I’m craving their fried pickles.”

“I could go for a virgin pi?a colada,” Daphne says. “Shopping is stressful. I need something to take the edge off.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say, slinging my arm around her shoulders. Truth be told, I’ve been over this shopping thing for at least an hour. I’ve already picked out presents for Mom, Dad, and Thora, and now everything I see is starting to remind me of either Tally or Irene. I can’t buy a gift for either one of them, though for vastly different reasons.

We slip into the warm, bustling tavern that is The Chimney just as the lunch hour is winding down. Thora spots us and signals to the hostess to put us in our favorite booth, the one by the jukebox. We slide into the high-backed booth and have a basket of fried pickles delivered within two minutes.

“Thora’s the best,” Danielle says, devouring the snack. “She always knows exactly what we want.”

“She’s people-smart,” Daphne says astutely. “That’s what Mom says.”

“How did I miss that gene?” I ask.

“You’re people-smart,” Danielle says. “Maybe not, like, on a Thora level, but you’re pretty sufficient.”

“A ringing endorsement. Thank you.”

Danielle shrugs. “Irene is the only person I know who’s actually on par with Thora.”

I say nothing, trying to keep my expression neutral.

“Is that why Thora doesn’t like her?” Daphne asks.

I look around. “Did she say that?”

“Um.” Daphne’s ears turn red—a gene my sisters and I most definitely share. “I mean, I think she’s just protective of you.”

“Thora doesn’t like anyone I date,” I grumble.

As if on cue, Thora appears out of nowhere, carrying two nonalcoholic pi?a coladas for Daphne. “Did I hear my name?”

“No,” I say, avoiding her eyes.

“We’re talking about Scottie’s love life,” Danielle says. I glower at her across the pickle basket.

“Ah yes, her love life,” Thora says.

“Why do you have to say it like that?” I ask.

“Because I’m not sure it involves actual love?”

My face burns. I grind my teeth and try not to lose my temper.

“Not even with Irene?” Daphne asks. Her smile becomes mischievous. “My friend’s sister showed us that video of her kissing you at the Emporium. It was so romantic.”

“That was … whatever,” I say, keenly aware of Thora’s eyes on me.

“Was it romantic?” Daphne asks breathlessly.

“No,” I say shortly at the same time that Danielle says, “Yes.” I flat-out glare at her, but she stares defiantly back.

“I just don’t want Scottie to get hurt,” Thora says pointedly.

“Irene’s not going to hurt her,” Danielle says.

“Can we please stop talking about me like I’m not sitting right here?”

Thora and Danielle settle, both of them sighing. Daphne pats my back and slides over her extra pi?a colada.