My (Not So) Perfect Plan (Believe In Us #2)

SIX

CLAIRE

I will admit, I am more than kind of ticked and humiliated at the way Tina asks that. Like I’m not even a person. My face turns red with heat and I drop my eyes as if that will hide me from the judgment of everyone there. I really want to be anywhere but there. That, or punch her in the face. But I’m not confrontational and just figure it would be better to keep the peace so I don’t say anything and focus on not tearing up.

A second later, Evan takes my hand and threads his fingers through mine. I look at him, confused.

“She’s my girlfriend.” Evan’s gaze holds mine, an unspoken invitation in his eyes as he rubs his thumb across the back of my hand.

I gasp, feeling like I sucked in a balloon. What did he just say? Hadn’t we agreed that we weren’t going to do this? Had Evan Carmichael just announced to his entire group of friends that I was his girlfriend?

A tornado of conflicting emotions whirls up past my belly. Everyone is looking at us with mouths agape, especially the boob wonder who has herself pressed up against his arm. I’m aware that if I shame him by denying, it would make me look stupid. It would also make him look like a fool to his friends, which would be demoralizing (and thus, not good for his recovery). Most importantly though, I can’t bring myself to deny it because there’s something in Evan’s eyes, something besides desire, though that’s there too, that has me wondering if he’s actually serious.

I smile at him instead, like it’s something I’m happy to admit.

“What?” Tina shrieks.

“Whoa, Tina, calm down,” Evan says, leaning back. Apparently he’s never learned that telling a woman who has been scorned to calm down is like adding fuel to the fire.

“You can’t be serious,” Tina spits out. “Look at her. She moves in on you the second you’re injured and you think it’s real? I can see hooking up if you need to go slumming, but your girlfriend? Wow, Carmichael, whatever happened to your standards?”

I want to tell her to shut up because Evan is getting angrier and angrier with every word that comes out of her mouth and I don’t want him doing something that will aggravate his injury. If anything, I want to soothe away the tension in his jaw.

He looks over at her, a wicked smile crawling over his features as he gives her a slow once over. The table is silent, waiting for what he’s going to say.

“What happened to my standards?” he repeats. “They went up.”

“Ohhhhh! Burn!” one his friends cackles. I’m worrying that Tina is going to implode.

“Whatever, Carmichael,” Tina finally grinds out. She shoots me a hate-filled glance, slides off his arm, and then snags one of her friends to head to the ladies room. I sag with relief as the attention moves off Evan and I, and then remember what it was that caused all the fuss in the first place. I pinch him in the side, making him yelp.

“What was that about, Carmichael ?” I lean over and ask close to his ear because I don’t want everyone to hear me.

He turns his head a bit, just enough to see me out of the corner of his eye, pauses and then shakes his head. His thumb rubs the back of my hand again and I can’t help the quick intake of breath it causes. He turns and places his cheek on mine, speaking quietly into my ear.

“That was me trying to make the best of a bad situation.” His soft breath makes me shiver. “How mad are you?”

I lean back to look at him and raise my eyebrows. “Let’s just say you got some ‘splainin’ to do when you get home, mister.”

“Yes, dear,” he smirks.

Since I decided not to embarrass us both by declaring that we weren’t a couple, I also decide to make the most of it and enjoy the fake date for as long as it lasts. Somehow I end up snuggled up against Evan’s side, his arm around my shoulders, and his nose in my neck as he dies laughing at one of his friends. The sensation of his breath on my neck is unreal.

I am really glad he decided to come to the game, if for no other reason than that smiling is so good for a person. I probably don’t do it enough, but I have noticed myself smiling a lot more since Evan became a staple part of my daily diet.

“You ready to go, babe?” Evan asks loud enough for everyone at the table to hear.

Babe? I almost snort, it is such a farce, but I paste a gooey smile on my face and rub my nose against his instead, deciding it’s time to turn the tables on him and channel my own inner Scarlett O’hara (did I mention that I have a thing for that girl?)

Let him be on the receiving end of the crazy and see how it feels. I load up my voice with all the fake sugar I can manage, slide my hand up to his shoulder to stroke the hair on the back of his head and lay it on him thick as butter, almost speaking against his lips.

“Sure, but only if we’re going to do something better.” His eyes grow huge and darken with what I now know is desire. I pull away and feel immediately guilty for teasing him like that. It’s one of those catty things that other girls might do, but I was raised not to.

I suddenly realize the rest of the table is watching us in shock.

The girls all look like they’ve swallowed a lemon, except Emily and Tina who look like their heads are going to explode. And all of his guy friends are basically salivating. The one time I decide to do something light-hearted and it explodes in my face.

My face grows heated and I bury my head in his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Um, yeah,” Evan says. His voice comes out strangled and I can feel him swallow. I pick up my head and look at him, biting back a smile. I’m still in shock that I actually did that. Apparently my saucy wench pretense worked on him, which I was not at all expecting. He looks like he wants to take me home and never let me leave. And it’s weird, because it’s just me. Claire. Not even dressed up fancy or anything.

I play off my consternation and wave goodbye to his friends, trying to ignore their catcalls, wolf whistles, and advice to Evan not to do anything they wouldn’t do as I roll him toward the door. It kind of bothers me that they now think Evan and I are doing stuff, but at the same time, it’s my own fault for being so careless with where I make innuendos and who I was in front of.

I roll him out to his truck. It’s gotten awkward and silent. He’s not joking around with me like he should be considering what we just walked away from and that has me feeling self-conscious. I know I wasn’t the only one affected by that kiss, but what if he’s just using me for a good time?

Once we are settled in his truck and I pull out of the parking lot I realize how late it is. Mom will be expecting me home within the hour.

“Can we drive out to the Point and talk?” Evan asks. I frown. The Point is the place where all the teenagers go to park and make out. Don’t get me wrong, I am dying to experience another one of his kisses, but I don’t want him to get the wrong idea about the kind of girl I am. I’m offended that apparently, he already does have the wrong idea, although, I only have myself to blame now.

“You know I’m not some skank who’s just going to give it up because I’m supposedly dating the QB, right?”

Evan rolls his eyes at me. “Former QB. And yes, I know that. That’s probably part of the reason why I… Nevermind. Just… can we talk?”

I shake my head. “Not today. I really can’t. I know we need to talk, so don’t think I’m blowing you off. I promised my parents I would be home by midnight. And I’m babysitting pretty much all day tomorrow while my mom runs errands and goes shopping.”

“What about me?” Evan asks, pouting a little bit for show.

“What about you?” I ask innocently.

“Oh, whatever, Claire. You know you want your boyfriend to hold you in his arms and whisper sweet nothings in your ear at some point this weekend.” He’s joking, but there’s an undercurrent of disappointment in his voice.

“Okay, let’s clear that up now,” I say. “What the heck was that? Why’d you say you were my boyfriend?”

Evan throws up his hands in defense. “I don’t know! I was mad because of all that crap Tina was saying. I really wanted to shove her nose in it. It just came out and then I couldn’t take it back.”

“And now everyone thinks we’re doing the nasty.” I scowl at the road.

“That was all you, babe.”

“I’m not your babe, Carmichael .”

“It’s so sexy when you say my name.”

He sighs and leans his head back against the seat. I almost think he’s tired and done with this conversation when he reaches out an arm and begins stroking my arm with his fingers. I swallow.

“Claire. Don’t resist it,” he says in this knowing voice.

“Stop it,” I hiss. “You’re like the devil, trying to tempt me away from the straight and narrow. Not today, Satan!”

Evan bursts out laughing, but thankfully removes his hand, holding his abs while he laughs instead.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s a bad idea to distract someone who is driving your truck?” I add.

“Whatever, I can’t believe you just compared me to Satan! It’s not like I’m some libertine, virtue stealer here.”

“Doesn’t matter. My chastity belt is staying on and locked regardless,” I say surprising myself. It seems Evan brings out my lighter, wittier side. Weird.

“Oh, man,” he laughs, “I love you, woman!”

I look over and give him the crazy eye because we both know he doesn’t mean it like love love. He grins at me.

“Thanks for getting me to the game,” he says. “And the diner. And there’s that party tomorrow night.”

“Did I tell you I don’t do parties? Pretty sure I did,” I say as I pull into his driveway. I know what those high school parties are like – a lot of teen drinking, making out, and possibly pot smoking. I was okay with being a prude because I had a career plan. There was no way I could let anything hijack my future success.

As if to remind me of the stark difference between his situation and mine I pull into the paved area in front of the four car garage. My mouth gapes again at the sheer immensity of the place.

“Oh, you are coming with me to a party at some point,” Evan says. “Either you show and act like my girlfriend, or people are going to start wondering if I’ve lost my mind because I keep talking about my girlfriend who’s never around.”

I want to go, if for no other reason than to spend time with him, but no, I tell myself, that’s not going to happen. It’s like a gateway drug. Go once and then before you know it, you’re pregnant at eighteen, without the support of a spouse. Instead, I laugh as I open the door on my side. “Then you’re just going to look crazy!”

“But Claaaairree!” he whines. We’re both laughing as I help him out of the truck. I run up to the front porch where we left his crutches next to the door and bring them down for him. He steadies himself and then gets serious.

“How are you getting home?” he asks.

“I texted Rachel while we were at the restaurant and asked her to come get me.”

He sighs and I see regret flicker in his eyes. “I wish I could drive you home.” He reaches up and gently slides a finger down my cheek. “Do this proper and kiss you good night.”

I roll my eyes. “Seriously, Evan, you are taking the fake boyfriend thing waay too far. No one is here to see your performance, remember?”

“Who says I’m performing?” He wets his lips nervously. I narrow my eyes at him. Of course he’s pretending. I’m no idiot. I know Evan is a flirt and after this six months or whatever it is that he needs me and I need him, he’ll drop me easily enough, and I’ll be left with a broken heart if I allow myself to get emotionally invested in us.

His eyes drop to my lips again, as if he’s asking permission to kiss me again. I know I should tell him no because what we have isn’t real, but at the same time, I don’t want to. Gateway drug, I remind myself even as I start leaning. Thankfully, the sound of a car driving up saves me from having to make a decision and breaks us apart.

I don’t know what to say to him. I don’t know what I think he should say to me. Rachel is waiting in her car. His hands slide down to capture mine.

“Monday, driver’s license test. Yeah?”

I swallow and nod, incapable of formulating words.

“And tonight…” he hesitates and when he continues his voice sounds oddly vulnerable. “Can I text you?”

I solemnly nod my head again.

“Are you going to be okay getting inside by yourself?” I ask.

“Are you going to walk me to the door?” he teases.

“I have to get my backpack anyway.” I point to the spot next to the door where I left it earlier.

I begin moving toward the door with him. At the top of the stairs he turns and captures my fingers in his one more time, kissing the back of them before winking at me and going inside. I grab my back pack, whirl on the steps, and run down to the car.

Rachel’s mouth is hanging open. Her eyes go from me to the door and back again.

“What on earth was that?” she shrieks. “I drive up and you are about to make out with our school’s hottest football player. What? How? When? And why didn’t you say anything?”

She shoves me in the shoulder. “Spill, woman.”

I start at the beginning and tell her the whole story. I haven’t finished before she pulls into my driveway.

“Call me. Tonight!” she demands. “Or we should set up a friend conference for Sunday.”

“Not Raven, he hates those.”

“Okay, yeah, you’re right. What about Saturday night then? We could do another girl’s night?”

I think back to Evan’s party and I don’t want to answer. She sees the look on my face and waves her hand. “We’ll figure it out. You better get inside before your curfew is shortened.”

“All right, chica, if nothing else, I’ll see you on Sunday,” I say as I hug her. “And I’ll call if I’m not too busy flirting with Evan.”

I hop out of the car, back pack in hand.

“What the?! Claire!” Rachel yells.

I stop and turn to lean down and look at her. She seems puzzled, but in a good way.

“I think Evan is good for you.”

I give her a huge grin. “The jury is still out on that one.”

I’ve only just laid down when my phone pings with a message.

EVAN: You better pass your driver’s license test this time.

ME: I’ll try.

ME: You just worried about not having someone to cart you around?

EVAN: No. It would reflect badly on me considering I taught you how to drive.

ME: No, you didn’t! You just helped refine my existing driving skills.

EVAN: Um… is this before or after you almost crashed my truck getting out of the school parking lot?

I blush, remembering that embarrassing moment.

ME: You aren’t supposed to bring that up.

My phone rings. It’s Evan.

“Didn’t get enough of me yet?” I ask. I have to admit, it makes me pretty happy that he called.

“Or I’m just bored.”

“You’re a jerk. I am so not going to be your last resort.”

Evan is silent for so long I wonder if the call has dropped.

“You’re not,” he says, and this time I can tell he isn’t joking around.

“You going to binge on Netflix again tomorrow?” I’m starting to get sleepy, but I don’t want to hang up with him yet.

“Probably. Until the party. Been playing Battlegrounds a lot too.”

“You’re going to kill brain cells.”

“I have extra,” he chuckles.

I’m falling asleep on the phone, but I don’t care because I like the sound of his voice in my ear as I start to drift off.

“Hey, Claire?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m really glad Mr. Henderson asked me to tutor you.”

The words barely register.

“Me too,” I manage to mumble before I fall asleep.