The Queen of Bright and Shiny Things(61)

We spring apart as she unlocks the front door, and I hope I don’t look as guilty as I feel.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“What’re you two up to tonight?” she asks.

I suspect she knows what we were doing, and I grin really big, trying to look innocent. “Watching a movie with Ryan and Lila. They’ll be over later.”

“That’s reassuring. I’ll be home by midnight. Do you want me to cook before I go out?”

I shake my head. “I can make grilled cheese or pasta.”

Lila and Ryan will probably eat at home, so popcorn will do for them. I glance at Shane. “Should we make something now?” It’s almost five. Depending on what we fix, it might be almost six by the time we finish.

“Yeah,” he mutters.

I can tell he’s uncomfortable that my aunt almost caught him on top of me, and for some reason, I want to laugh. We make spaghetti with a creamy tomato sauce; I puree some soft tofu to add protein. Along with a green salad, this is a decent meal.

“I need to cook for you sometime,” Shane says, as we sit down.

“What’s your specialty?”

“Slow-cooker pulled pork, but I guess that’s out. I can also make decent vegetable soup.”

“Nom. I’ll bring fresh bread.”

“Do you use a machine?”

I shake my head. “My aunt believes in old-fashioned kneading. Good upper-body workout.” Then I pretend to flex, which is obviously absurd, and Shane smiles.

God, I’d do anything to make him laugh. When I’m being silly, some of his shadows seem to melt away, and this is how he should be, full of sunshine and laughter. The somber darkness I sometimes glimpse in him isn’t natural. Yet I recognize it, and I wonder if that’s what pulls us together. I remember Ryan mentioning Shane’s “thick file” when he started at our school, but I’m in no position to judge, no matter what he’s done. The important thing is who he is now.

I can hear my aunt moving around, getting ready for her date. She comes out once to ask my opinion on her outfit, and I give her two thumbs-up on a red dress with silver accessories, then she hurries off to do hair and makeup.

Shane appears baffled. “I had no idea it was such a thing for a girl to get ready. Do you…?” He cuts the question, seeming to decide he shouldn’t ask me.

But I can finish it. Do I flutter for him the way my aunt does for Joe? “Yeah. Sometimes I can’t decide what shirt to wear or if I should go with or without lip gloss.”

“I don’t care about fashion,” he answers. “I’d take you with no shirt at all. Uhm. I mean.” Then he’s as red as the tomato sauce.

I laugh. “My aunt’s in the next room!”

Groaning, he buries his head in his hands. “Hopefully that’s the stupidest thing I’ll say tonight. It should be noted that I don’t like lip gloss.”

By the time we tidy up the kitchen, Joe has arrived and my aunt goes off with him, somehow managing not to say anything embarrassing before she does. I love her even more for that. Ryan and Lila arrive shortly thereafter, then there’s more laughter, a stupid comedy that I’ve seen four times, so it doesn’t matter if I sneak looks at Shane the whole night. We eat popcorn and throw it at each other, and by the time my aunt gets home, it’s just the two of us again.

“Looks like you had fun,” she comments, counting the cups mentally.

I can see that she’s relieved that we spent the evening as a group. Now she doesn’t have to worry that I’m pregnant; it’ll be a while before she has to deal with that concern. Shane tries to duck out the back without a lot of fuss, but there’s no way my aunt’s letting that happen.

“Reflective tape,” she tells him sternly. “Or I’m driving you home myself.”

Shane shoots me a horrified look. Yeah, if she sees where he lives, she’ll ask to meet his parents … and since they’re not around, she’ll call social services. Then he’ll end up in foster care, and I know that’s not what he wants. But if I’m being honest, this is a selfish move because I can’t stand the thought of him going away. Even if it would be better for him.

I know that makes me a horrible person.

“I’ll get the tape,” I say. “Shane’s got a bike in the shed. You’ll be careful, right?”

Relieved, he nods and he doesn’t protest when I stripe his arms and legs and one down his back for good measure. “See you tomorrow.”

He kisses me quickly, then he’s gone. I watch out the window until he’s out of sight, then I turn to find my aunt studying me. “You’re in love.”

“Shut up, so are you.”

Her cheeks pinken. “Maybe.”

“It’s a good year for us, huh?”

“Possibly the best yet,” she admits.

*

Saturday, I pack a picnic, which we eat in the park. Afterward, Shane sings to me; he’s brought his guitar this time, and I fool around, recording him on my phone. I tell him it’s because I want to sell the video when he’s famous, but the truth is, I just want to watch it when I’m not with him. How lame am I? Afterward, we stop in at the Coffee Shop, and the barista asks if Shane’s interested in doing a regular Sunday performance, once a month. He’s excited, so he’s in a fantastic mood by the time he has to go to work.