On the Fence

I pulled out my phone and called Amber.

“What a coincidence. I just got off the phone with Braden.”

My head whipped over to Braden’s house as if he’d be standing there, hanging up the phone. The porch was, of course, empty. I gave it a dirty look and walked up to my front door, entering the house. “Really? How’s Braden?” I didn’t mean to say his name with a hint of sarcasm; it just came out that way.

“He’s good. He told me you were going to some sort of basketball camp next week.”

“Yes. I am.”

“I didn’t know you played basketball.”

I took a breath. “I do. And soccer.”

“Cool. But too bad you’re going to be gone because I’m having a party next week. I wish you could come.”

Cool? That’s how simple it was to be myself? I just had to tell her? I felt stupid. “Yeah. I’m going to be gone. But we always do an end-of-the-summer thing here at my house after I get back. You should come.”

“Of course. Sounds fun.”

I walked up the stairs, my feet telling me I was still upset about the ad by how loud they sounded on each step. “So hey, did you happen to see the ad the bridal store put out today?”

“No. Why?”

“I’m in it.” I realized I said that sentence really loudly and looked around to make sure nobody had heard me. The coast was clear, so I went into my room and shut my door.

“What? I didn’t know you modeled.”

I resisted rolling my eyes and said, “I don’t. It’s images for their new makeup line. I was in there that day helping out Antonia. I guess the girl that should’ve been there signed a form. I claimed I was her because they were being all weird about parental permission that day. Now I know why.”

“Oh, crap. That sucks.”

“Exactly. What should I do?”

“Unfortunately, it sounds like you . . . well, she . . . kind of signed over creative rights to your image. I guess if you got a lawyer involved you might be able to challenge it. But you lied about it, so I don’t think you’ll have much recourse there. Are you in big trouble?”

“Are you kidding me? My dad hasn’t seen it, and he won’t if I can help it.”

“It’s just a local ad, Charlie. It could be worse.”

I sank onto my bed, feeling defeated. “I know.” This was my payback for all the lies I’d told lately.

“Try not to let it get to you. It’s something that people throw in their recycle bins after barely looking at.”

“You’re right. I’m glad I’m leaving for a week. Hopefully it will get my mind off everything.” And there were so many things that “everything” meant.

Chapter 28

I grabbed my duffel bag and slung it over my shoulder, picked up my pillow, and headed for the stairs.

“Dad, we need to leave in fifteen minutes,” I called down the hall, then took the stairs two at a time and dropped my stuff by the front door. In the kitchen, I grabbed a bowl and poured myself some cereal. The doorbell rang, and since I was the only one up and ready for the day, I went to answer it. “Ready” was a relative term. I had woken up, showered, thrown my hair in a ponytail, and pulled on some sweats. So when I opened the door and saw Evan standing there, I tried to resist the urge to shove my pillow in front of my face. He’d never seen me without makeup. I pursed my lips together. No. This was good. This was how I normally looked, and this would prove he didn’t care.

“Hi,” he said with a smile. “I didn’t want you to leave for a week without saying good-bye in person.”

“Oh. Great. Come in.” I stood aside. “I was just about to eat some breakfast. Do you want anything?”

“No. Already ate. But don’t let me stop you.”

As I poured the milk on my cereal, I felt Evan staring. I looked up with a questioning eyebrow raise.

“You look different in the morning,” he said.

I couldn’t tell if it was a good different or a bad different. “I haven’t put my makeup on,” I said. Because I usually don’t unless I’m going out, I should’ve added.

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “So, is this a girls’ camp or is it coed?”

“It’s coed. But we each have our own dorms, of course.” I took a bite of my cereal.

“That’s cool. I was just thinking . . . before you left . . . that maybe we should define what we . . .” The back door swung open and Braden stepped inside, his eyes locking with mine. I didn’t know if he even saw Evan sitting on the barstool. Braden looked like crap. His hair was a mess, his eyes looked more green than brown today, rimmed with red, like he hadn’t slept for days. His T-shirt was wrinkled, and he wore a pair of athletic shorts and flip-flops. Seeing him like that made my heart ache. I wanted to tell him I was sorry for calling him a jerk. There was so much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t, not with an audience.

“I’m sorry for the other night. I don’t want to leave things like this,” he said, without warming up to it. “Truce?”

I looked at Evan, then back at Braden. Braden finally noticed Evan and his expression went dark.

“Hey, man,” Evan said.

Braden just nodded, then turned his attention back to me. “Have fun at camp.” He backed out the door before I could stop him. I thought about going after him, talking things through. I hated how things were between us too, but as I took a step toward the door, my dad walked into the kitchen.

“Almost ready, Charlie?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, hello, Evan.”

Evan stood. “Hi.”

I took a couple of spoonfuls of my Cheerios and put the bowl in the sink. “I’m ready. I’ll be right out.”

He left the kitchen and I gave Evan an apologetic shoulder shrug. I wasn’t that sorry, though. I didn’t want him to finish the conversation he was trying to start before Braden walked in. I didn’t want to define our relationship before I left. I needed the time away to think about our relationship.

“When you get home, I want to take you out,” Evan said, coming around the counter and giving me a hug.

“Sounds good.” I started to pull away, but then realized he wanted a kiss, too, so I stepped forward again and right onto his foot. “Oh, sorry.” I looked down, but apparently he was still going in for the kiss, because we bumped heads. “I’m not doing well this morning.”