Send Me a Sign(24)

“Let it go to voice mail. You’ll call her back.”

“I can’t.” With the old me, that would’ve been fine. Now? She’d dispatch the police and an ambulance if I didn’t pick up. The thought of Gyver’s mother walking in motivated me to wiggle out from under Ryan and answer. “Hi, Mom.”

“Are you okay? You sound out of breath.”

“I’m fine.”

“I want you home. Your dad read an article and he has me all freaked out about public places and germs. You’ve seen your friends. You can still see them tomorrow, but come home now so I can stop worrying.”

“Okay.” I would’ve been more annoyed if I wasn’t so exhausted. I shut off the phone, slipped it in my pocket, and buttoned my shorts. “I’ve got to go.”

He’d been watching me with heavy-lidded admiration, but his eyes blinked into sudden focus. “What?”

“Sorry.”

“You’ll come back over later though? After dinner?”

He looked so confused. It hurt to disappoint him. “I can’t. I really can’t.”

“When did your parents get strict?”

“Long story.”

“I liked it better when you had no curfew.” He sat up and reached for my hand, pulling me to stand in front of him.

“Me too.” I gave him a quick kiss. “I’ll try and come see you at the beach. If you come home again, call me.”

“Don’t get mad, but can I ask you something?”

“Okay.” I tugged my hand, not quite wanting him to release it.

Ryan stared at the floor. “If you don’t want to have sex with me, what are we doing?”

“What?” The unexpected question had me flustered and blushing. “You think that’s the only the reason I’d be here with you? Is that the only reason you wanted me here?”

“No.” He squeezed my hand but didn’t look up. “I like talking to you; you listen to me. And you’re smart and nice and hot. But I do want to sleep with you.”

I tried not to melt from embarrassment. Why couldn’t I be confident about this stuff like Hil or tactless like Lauren? “Ryan, I like you. I’m just not ready for that.”

“But you’ll be ready eventually, right?” His blue eyes met mine and I felt equal parts mortified and attracted.

“I’ve got to go. We’ll talk soon.”

He quirked an eyebrow at me—did he know how sexy that was? “Talk or … ?”

He knew.

“Talk,” I repeated. I leaned in and kissed him good-bye. The type of kiss he’d remember when he was in his lifeguard stand and a bikinied girl romped by. Then I pulled my hand free and ran for my car.





Chapter 11

Lauren was the first to arrive the next morning. Her red curls fought against her green headband as she struggled to carry the essentials: a bag of Twizzlers, sunblock, and stacks of magazines. “You’ve got Diet Coke, right?”

“Yes.” Although I wasn’t allowed to drink it anymore—one of Mom’s new obsessions was making sure that everything that passed my lips was natural and organic.

“Hil was getting out of the shower when I called and Ally was leaving to pick her up.” Lauren breezed through the kitchen, greeting my dad on her way to the pool. He was “working from home” today, which translated to “babysitting Mia.” Mom had left with Gyver’s dad for her first day back in the office. She’d called four times.

I poured three sodas and a water and followed Lauren into the backyard. She turned the chaise longues to face the sun and stripped down to her bikini. “Aren’t you going to change? You’ve got to tell me what diet you’re on. I feel like an elephant next to you.”

“You’re not! I’ll change in a bit.” Lauren would start to crisp in twenty minutes. I planned to point that out and we’d both move to the shade. She’d be thrilled to have company and I’d avoid bikini, port, and weight-loss exposure. She selected a magazine and handed me the stack. I’d read them all in the hospital. Thank you, Nurse Hollywood.

It didn’t matter, because Lauren shut the magazine as soon as she opened it and turned to me with a confiding expression. “I really hated camp without you. Don’t tell Hil and Ally because they did their best to make me feel included, but they had all these captain meetings and I couldn’t go. I felt so lame and third wheelish.”

“That sucks.”

“They totally deserve to be captains—it’s not that—and I missed you the whole time you were gone, but especially then.”

“Sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault. I’m sure you’d rather have been with us too.” She flipped her magazine open again.

“Definitely.” I pulled my feet up on the chair and thought. Of the Calendar Girls, Lauren was the best listener. Ally was too easily distracted and Hil was too opinionated. Lauren wasn’t a Gyver give-advice type listener, but the kind you went to when you wanted someone to nod and agree.

“Why are you staring at me?” she asked self-consciously.

“Just spacing out. Sorry.” I looked away, searching for a sign. Not finding anything obvious, I reached over and plucked a flower out of one of my mother’s patio pots. Tell her. Tell her not. Tell her. Tell her not … Not.