Читать книгу Put It Out There - D. Graham R. - Страница 9

The rest of the afternoon dragged because, as it turned out, not much had changed in the year I’d been gone. Same boring classes, same small-town teachers, and same shallow, immature classmates. After school, I walked across the grass to wait for Trevor. Since I didn’t have any homework to do and forgot to bring a book, I just sat on a bench next to the parking lot. The day hadn’t gone at all how I imagined it would go. A few people had welcomed me back. A few people had no idea who I was. Most people acted as if they hadn’t even noticed I’d been missing for a year. Not one person said anything about my dad. It wasn’t exactly bad, but it wasn’t what I expected either.

Twenty minutes passed before I realized Steve was one of the people playing tennis in the courts in front of me. When he finished his match, or game, or set—whichever it was, he walked over and sat beside me on the bench. “Do you need a ride?”

“No thanks. Trevor is picking me up after he finishes work.”

“Oh, is he your boyfriend or something?”

That was a first. People mistook him for my brother all the time, but nobody had ever asked if he was my boyfriend. “No. He’s my neighbour.”

“So, you don’t have a boyfriend?”

“No. Do you have a girlfriend?”

“I hope to.” He grinned and leaned in a little. “I’m going to set another intention. I’ll let you know how it turns out.”

Was he flirting? It felt like flirting, not that I was an expert. My face definitely flushed and my stomach felt weird. “Did you have a good practice?” I asked, to break the awkwardness.

“Yeah, I was killing it,” he joked. “Weren’t you watching?”

Not sure how to admit that although I’d stared right at the tennis courts the entire time, I was thinking about other things and not paying attention. I said, “Sure. You were awesome like, like, um. Who’s a famous tennis star?”

He laughed at my unsuccessful attempt to sound athletically hip. “I was awesome like Roger Federer. You can tell everyone you think that.”

“Roger Federer. I will, if I can remember his name.”

He smiled before he said, “Your hair is such a cool colour.”

I ran my hand over it self-consciously. “Brown?”

“In the sunshine it looks red and blonde and brown. It’s really pretty.”

“Thank you.” I tucked it behind my ears. So bad at the flirting thing.

“For Saturday, I’ll pick you up at the Inn at eight, if that works for you.”

“Sure.” As I agreed, Trevor’s truck pulled up into the parking lot with Murphy—his impressively muscular best friend—in the passenger seat. Murphy was the same age as Trevor, but he looked older because he was so massive and shaved his head bald. They both volunteered for Search and Rescue, and Murphy was training to be a paramedic. Trevor laughed at something Murphy said. Then they both eyeballed Steve in a cautionary way as he said goodbye to me and walked past the truck towards the school gym.

“Hey Deri,” Trevor crooned in a mocking way as I slid in to the back seat.

“Hi. Hi Murph.”

Murphy nodded his greeting and said, “Welcome home, Deri. Everyone missed you last year.” He smacked Trevor’s shoulder, then turned in his seat and studied my face with a perplexed expression.

“What?” I frowned and leaned back against the seat.

“You look different.”

“Good different or bad different?”

“Well, that’s kind of a trick question. It’s not a bad different, but if I say it’s a good different, you’ll assume there was something wrong with how you looked before, which there wasn’t. So. Just different. Right, Trev?”

Ignoring the good-versus-bad debate, Trevor lifted his chin in the direction Steve had gone and asked, “What was that?”

“What was what?” I mumbled.

“It looked like maybe you were getting asked out on a date.”

Murphy seemed to enjoy the embarrassment that was probably evident from either the burning fuchsia cheeks, the sinking posture, or the slight groan. “We’re just friends,” I finally said to make them leave me alone.

“What’s his name?” Trevor asked, as he shifted the truck into reverse and backed out of the parking stall.

“Steve.”

“Steve what?”

“What difference does it make?” I shook my head and stared out the window, wishing he would drop it.

“I’m not going to let you go out with some random guy without doing a background check on him first.”

“He’s not random, and who made it your job to screen my boyfriends?”

“Oh, he’s your boyfriend?” Trevor faked a gasp and shot an overly exaggerated incredulous look at Murphy.

“No, he’s not my boyfriend, and I don’t need you doing background checks on anyone. I’m not a little kid, and you’re not my big brother.”

“I’m still going to watch out for you. Nothing will stop me from doing that.”

I glanced up and our eyes met in the rearview mirror. Based on how much his tone resembled the one he used when he was being protective over Kailyn, I knew he wasn’t joking. I could take care of myself, but since my dad would have been comforted by Trevor keeping an eye on me, I didn’t bother to argue.

Murphy broke the silence between us by telling me a story about how they got mugged at gun point in Brazil. Fortunately, they only had a small amount of cash on them and the guy didn’t take their passports. Besides that incident, the rest of the stories sounded like amazing experiences.

Murphy was a member of the Squamish nation and his ancestors had lived in the Squamish area, literally, since the beginning of time. He was headed down to Britannia with us because Trevor’s dad had planned a welcome-home barbecue for them with all the Search and Rescue volunteers. They never usually invited me to their parties, so when Murphy asked, “Are you coming?” my mouth dropped open in shock.

“Uh,” I glanced at Trevor. His expression was completely indecipherable. “Trevor hadn’t mentioned it, so I didn’t know I was invited. But, I don’t have any other plans tonight. So, I guess. Sure.”

“Great,” Murphy said, and punched Trevor’s shoulder.

Trevor didn’t appear impressed, and I wasn’t sure if it was because he wished Murphy hadn’t invited his honorary little sister to a party with every good-looking fire fighter, forest ranger, ski-patrol member, and pilot who lived in the Squamish district, or if the shot to the shoulder had actually hurt.

When we pulled into the parking lot in front of the Inn, the fire alarm was ringing. Trevor skidded to a stop as the guests crowded out the exits. Both he and Murphy jumped out before I even fully processed what was going on. Of all the worst-case scenarios for the Inn I’d been worried about, burning down was not one I had considered.