Send Me a Sign(21)

“And a vanilla milkshake.” After a month of vomiting, I wasn’t worried about calories.

“I’ll go tell the waitress,” Ryan offered, slipping out of the booth.

Hil was still studying me. “Where are the highlights?”

“I don’t see any either,” Lauren agreed, kneeling up on the booth and tipping her head to examine me like a lab specimen.

“It didn’t take—my hair had a weird reaction and burned. It was a mess.”

“Oh my God!” Ally squeezed my arm in sympathy. “I’m never getting my hair cut in Connecticut! Poor you.”

“It’ll grow back.” Turning to Lauren and Hil I added, “It’s just hair.”

“I’d kill for your blond.” Hil blew her perfect brown bangs out of her eyes and reached out to take a lock of my hair. I scooted away, bumping into Ryan, who was sitting back down.

“If you want to sit in my lap, all you have to do is ask.” He smiled but I was too overwhelmed to echo it or joke.

“How’s your pops doing?” Ally asked. “And are you okay? That must’ve been so hard!”

“He’s doing great. Really, really well. Thanks.”

Hil continued her critique. “You don’t look like our Summer Girl! Didn’t your grandparents let you out in the sun? And I thought Lauren was pale.”

I swallowed and tried to look casual, but Hil was circling. She could tell something was off—we’d been close for far too long for her not to pick up on whatever vibe I was projecting—and I knew she wouldn’t rest until she’d figured it out.

“I’m a redhead. You know I don’t tan, I burn and freckle,” Lauren grumbled.

Ryan picked up my arm and compared it to his own. “You’ve got some serious catching up to do.” He slipped both our hands under the table and didn’t let go.

I forced myself to join in the laughter and smile at the Casper and albino jokes. So many lies needed to be remembered, topics avoided, questions dodged. Ryan and I didn’t usually hold hands. Or we hadn’t before. My palm sweated and I was sure he felt my pulse pounding.

“Hey, neighbor. Didn’t know you were back. Hi, guys.” Gyver’s deep voice cut across the good-natured criticism. My racing heart slowed as he approached.

Hillary batted her eyelashes and Lauren smiled supersonically. Gyver didn’t look at them.

“Hey.” My tension melted. I poked Ryan and he stood to let me out of the booth.

Ryan gave Gyver a stiff nod.

I launched myself into his hug. “How are you? It’s good to see you.” Stepping out of his arms was hard, but I’d stayed there a beat too long already. I released him but stood close, breathing in his familiar safety.

Gyver picked up the conversation. “How was Connecticut? You cut your hair—it looks good.”

“Are you blind? They destroyed her hair,” Hillary growled. Her flirty smile was gone.

“I like it.” He smiled at me without acknowledging Hil. Lauren leaned forward in a way that showed too much of her lace bra and cleavage.

“Thanks.” I meant it to sound casual, but my desperation and appreciation snuck into the word. Out of habit and fear, I nearly laced my fingers through his, then overreacted and jerked my hand away.

“I like it too.” Ryan’s words and arms wrapped around me at the same time. He pulled me back into the booth, onto his lap. “Now that I’m used to it, I like it a lot.”

Gyver’s eyebrows went up. I shrugged off Ryan’s arms so I could slide onto the bench beside him. Hil looked puzzled and annoyed. She’d always been dangerously observant. And opinionated.

I moved down to create more room between Ryan and me. “It was good to see you, Gyver. I guess I’ll see you around.”

The others gave halfhearted good-byes, but Gyver focused only on me. “Welcome back.”

He was barely out of hearing when Hillary said, “I get that you guys were sandbox pals, but I don’t see why you still hang out with him.” Her eyes traced a blatant path between me, Gyver, and Ryan.

“Why wouldn’t I? Am I supposed to reject him because he rejected you?” I challenged. Ally’s mouth was a perfect lip-glossed O and Lauren’s eyebrows were halfway up her forehead. “I mean, clearly he has bad taste, but he’s still my friend.”

Hil smiled icily. “I only asked him out because you were always going on and on about him, but he’s such a loner.”

“He’s not a loner, he’s here with …” I looked up to see who he was here with and the rest of the sentence died in my throat.

The girl was wearing a light-green sundress. It was the type of thing I’d had to retire to the back of my closet because the straps would showcase my port and bony shoulders and the color would make my pale skin look gray. She, of course, looked adorable. She was smiling and saying something that made him laugh. She was leaning toward him. She was touching his arm.

“Who is that?” asked Lauren.

“Meagan something.” I barely knew her. I didn’t know Gyver did. Well enough to have lunch, just the two of them. Then again, I didn’t know how he’d spent his nights. Except for gigs and his work at the record store, we hadn’t talked about how he’d spent the nonhospital part of his summer or with whom he’d spent it.