Wrong About the Guy(63)

“I know,” I said, cutting him off. “Halloween was weird—I guess he was trying to make everyone think he and I were going out, to cover up what was really going on—but there’s never been anything between us other than friendship. That kiss was basically a joke.”

“So I don’t have to hate him?”

“Not for my sake. But maybe for Michael’s?”

He shook his head. “Michael blames Crystal, not Aaron. Which I get—she was the married adult in the situation.” An enormous yawn carved a hole in his face. “God, I’m tired. If you’re fine, then I’m going to bed. To my bed. I’m so happy to be home.”

“Hold on.” I smiled my most beguiling smile. “Now that you’re back, I have a favor to ask you.”

“And fear enters his heart. . . .”

“This one’s easy.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“I just need you to call Elton College on Monday and tell them they should accept both me and Heather. I mean, not in those words. You have to be diplomatic about it—just tell them that you’re . . . you know . . . who you are . . . and that your stepdaughter and her friend are both applying and then say something like you just wanted to make sure they got our applications and they’re complete—or whatever. It probably doesn’t really matter what you say—just so long as they know that Luke Weston is on the phone. And maybe mention that you’d be willing to perform if I got in there. . . .”

“Ellie . . .” he said, and I could tell from his tone he didn’t immediately love the idea. Which meant I’d have to talk him into it.

“It’ll take you five minutes,” I said. “Maybe less. They just need to hear your voice.”

“Would you even want to go to a college that only let you in because someone famous called?”

“It’s what happened with high school, right? Coral Tree let me in after they saw you—”

“You were a good candidate,” he said. “Straight As at your middle school and you rocked those ISEEs. That’s why they let you in. I didn’t ask them for any special consideration.”

“Yeah, but you went on the tour and they got excited.”

“I went on the tour because I wanted to see the school. Not to impress them.”

I clasped my hands together and shifted to my knees. I couldn’t believe he was saying no. “Please, Luke. You have to. It could make the difference between getting in and not.”

“Your scores are incredible and so’s your GPA,” he said. “You’ll get in on your own—if not there, then somewhere else—and that’s a lot better than getting in because you have a famous relative.”

I let my hands drop. “It’s not me I’m worried about,” I said. “It’s Heather.”

“Why?”

“She’s just . . .” I stopped. Then I said reluctantly, “Her scores and her grades aren’t great.”

“Then maybe she shouldn’t get in,” Luke said. “If there are stronger students, is it really fair for her to get in over them because she knows me? Wouldn’t that be a lousy way for college admissions to work?”

“Oh, don’t get all idealistic on me,” I said, irritable because I did kind of agree with him. But not enough to back down. “People pull strings all the time. So why not us?”

“Because it’s wrong,” he said. “And because I have faith my brilliant girl will get in without my help. And her friend will, too—if she deserves to. Good night, Ellie.” He left.

I dropped back onto my bed, now truly worried about Heather’s chances of getting in early. I had banked so much on this one phone call, sure that Luke would make it for me. He always did what I wanted. I was in shock that he’d refused. And kind of embarrassed that I’d asked.

I was beginning to regret pushing Heather so hard to apply there with me. Now that I didn’t have any way to actually help her, I was scared I might have steered her right into the path of a painful rejection.


The next morning Mom wouldn’t stop talking about Aaron and Crystal (Luke had filled her in on the situation) until I finally lost patience and said, “You seem a little too obsessed with this whole younger-man thing. Luke getting too long in the tooth for you?”

“Stop it,” she said. “I’m not obsessed with it. I’m horrified by it.”

Grandma was in the kitchen with us, mixing some hot grain cereal at the stove and looking not unlike a witch stirring a cauldron in her long purple bathrobe. She said, “Every married woman fantasizes about sleeping with a single young man.”

“No, they don’t!” Mom said.

“They’re just not honest about it.” Grandma rapped her spoon on the side of the pot to clear it. “People aren’t truthful about their emotions. That’s what gets everyone in trouble. If we can recognize that even our worst thoughts are natural, we don’t have to act on them. Repression causes bad behavior. Everyone knows that.”

“I’m repressing something right now,” Mom muttered.





thirty-one


I fell asleep trying to get some homework done that afternoon. When I came downstairs a little while later, still groggy, Mom was searching through a kitchen drawer. “Why can’t I ever find a pen when I need one?” she said. “I buy them. And then they disappear.”