“You were just telling me the truth, Shana. I mean, any guy other than Jackson would have been a disaster. A total disaster. Plus, you’re usually right about guys half the time.”
“Only half?” It felt so good to be able to laugh about myself and not to have to be perfect. “So Quattro. I think I really like him. No, I know I do. But he’s on his way to college. And”—now I smiled sardonically, repeating the very words I had thrown at Reb once upon a time—“what are we going to talk about when he’s in college and I’m still in high school? Prom?”
“You’re not just any girl, Shana. And”—she held up a finger to prevent an interruption—“I have it from a very good source—you—that prom is fun.”
“But what if our time on the Inca Trail was all we had in common?”
“This, I’ve got to hear. The Love Guru speaketh. So you’re saying…”
“Vacation is fake! Anyone can do a vacation! You’d have to be a total Eeyore not to be happy on a vacation! But in my real world, the one way, way off the Inca Trail, there’s Dad’s blindness and college applications and pest control”—I scrambled for another example—“and prom!”
“Aren’t you being a little… dramatic?”
“Well, he hasn’t exactly called me.”
“Okay, I know this is going to be a shock to your system, but in the real world, where we of the normal looks live, not all of us are chased nonstop by boys.” She patted me gently on the hand as though I were senile. “It’s hard to believe, but true.”
“Reb!”
“So here’s a wild idea.” She who calls herself my friend now widened her green eyes. “Maybe you should call him? I know, crazy, right?”
“He doesn’t have a phone.”
“What?” Reb sounded the same disbelief I had felt before I knew Quattro’s reason. “Why?”
That was private information I didn’t want to share, not because I was afraid of what Reb would think but because Quattro blaming himself for his mother’s death was his story and his alone to share.
“I’ve tried e-mailing him, but it’s like he’s a CIA operative or something. He’s gone dark.” I shivered at those words. What if something had happened to Quattro and his dad on their way home?
“Well, who knows why? Maybe he’s not in a place where he can check e-mail? Or he’s lost your phone number? A billion things could have happened. You never know.” Reb shrugged. “It doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you.”
Reasonable enough. I needed to move to safer topics: her treehouse building, weekend plans with Jackson, her kid brother. Luckily, Reb agreed that I was so behind in school, another night off wasn’t going to hurt my grades more. So she insisted on helping me with Dad’s surprise present. As we reviewed the storyboard I’d sketched on paper, Reb said, “If you don’t mind me plagiarizing the idea, I’m so going to make one for my grandparents. I think Grandpa is going to pop the question soon. On the anniversary of the first time he proposed to Grandma Stesha.”
“That’s so romantic!” I said.
Our heads were bowed over Mom’s computer as we clicked through folders. Photo after photo showed my parents not just living together through the years but loving together. In more than half of the pictures, my parents were laughing or hugging or just holding hands. The recent divorce of Reb’s parents had come as a nasty surprise to everyone except her father, and I didn’t want images of a happy couple to hurt her now.
I asked Reb, “You okay looking at these?”
“Yeah,” she said, nodding firmly. Even though her smile was bittersweet, I could see she was telling the truth. “It’s nice to see couples who’ve made it.”
“Well, it hasn’t exactly been all peaches and sunshine these last couple of weeks.” I told her about how cranky Dad had been, first sullen and silent, then lashing out.
“Tough,” said Reb sympathetically.
And then I replayed how Mom had treated him like an invalid before becoming all helpless woman in distress. “Oh, my gosh, she kept asking him if he was doing okay—like he was on his last legs.”
“Ouch. Your dad’s Mr. Climb Every Mountain Because It’s There and all. He must have hated that.”
“I know! Can you say ‘total irritation at Mom’?” My breath caught. “You know what? Even when Dad was all cranky, he was the enforcer of thou-shalt-not-touch-my-daughter with Quattro. I swear, Dad could be my number one pest control technique. He totally intimidates guys.”
“You have pest control techniques?”
“Had.” I flushed when Reb burst out laughing. “Okay, so I had a couple of boy control techniques. But I didn’t even realize it.”