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  A bouquet of pink and yellow carnations--from Hayley, I bet--smiled from a cute vase on the windowsill. Maybe I should have brought flowers. But giving someone flowers tended to mean something, and I didn’t want Paxton to get the wrong idea. I could just imagine the crap he’d give me if he thought I liked him liked him. Which I didn’t, of course.

  Suddenly I felt nervous, and silly. Hayley had brought flowers, even though she and Paxton were just friends now. Maybe I should go get some freaking flowers.

  Too late--Paxton spotted me. Surprise spread across his face, like he’d thought I wouldn’t visit. As he cinched himself up to a sitting position, I tried to think of something positive to say.

  “I told you not to play on a hurt ankle,” was what came out.

  “No you didn’t.” Paxton threw his football at me. I caught it awkwardly. “You asked if I should. You never said not to.” He sounded annoyed, and I felt like a jerk.

  “So I guess you’re out for the season?” That wasn’t exactly the tone I’d been going for either. Paxton grimaced and leaned against his pillow.

  “At a minimum.”

  “I’m sorry. Really.” I tossed the football back and sat in the chair beside the bed. “That sucks.”

  “Whatever. It’s not like I wanted to play college ball anyway.” Paxton threw the football straight up in the air. It hit the ceiling and tumbled down. Paxton caught it, his movements jerky. He was doing a terrible job of pretending not to be depressed. Is this what Hayley called upbeat? But somehow I knew sympathy would only make Paxton feel worse.

  I tossed my hair.

  “Well, I know one thing that will cheer you up.”

  Paxton looked unconvinced. “This better be good.”

  I leaned in as if sharing a secret.

  “A lemur is a monkey,” I said.

  Paxton stared at me.

  “How is finding out I was wrong supposed to cheer me up?”

  I smiled. “Because I’m waiving the three million dollars you owe me.”

  Paxton’s mouth quirked up, just a little. “You are kindness incarnate.” He leaned back on his pillow again. “But I’m not cheered up.”

  I thought for a moment. “Remember when you replaced the icing on my Christmas cookies with toothpaste two years ago?” I raised a brow. “And everyone thought I’d done it as a joke?” It had been at a holiday dinner with the Callaways and another couple from the country club. Because of the no-tattling rule, I’d had to just dump the cookies and bite my tongue, though Paxton had been so proud of his prank he’d almost given himself away.

  “I remember.” Paxton grinned. “What about it?”

  “I just thought that might do the trick.”

  Paxton laughed. “You know, it does.” He raised a brow. “Remember when you washed all my football whites with your red uniform?”

  “I remember absolutely nothing of the sort.” But I was grinning. Paxton mock-glared at me, and I laughed. “What are you complaining about? Pink is so your color.”

  We grinned at each other, and then Paxton winced. He looked down at his cast. His smile died. “So how was the rest of the game?”

  “Lame,” I said, and left it at that. I was pretty sure Paxton didn’t really want to talk about football now that he couldn’t play. “Oh! I never got a chance to tell you ...” I explained my run-in with Daisy and my theory about Ryan, Dane and Francesca. “It all fits,” I finished, but Paxton didn’t look convinced. “What do you think?”

  “I guess you could be right,” he said. “You want me to talk to Ryan and find out?”

  I nearly jumped on the offer, but hesitated. Something made me shake my head. “No,” I said. “Thanks, but no.”

  Paxton gazed at me inscrutably. “Rose the Crusader of Truth doesn’t want confirmation that the love of her life didn’t cheat on her?”

  “I want him to tell me on his own.” I looked down at my hands. I didn’t know what to say about the “love of her life” crack. Was Ryan my soulmate? I wasn’t sure anymore.

  “Well, it’s late,” Paxton said after a moment. “You should probably go.”

  I glanced at the clock on the wall. There was still half an hour until visiting hours were over. But Paxton’s jaw was tight. Was he tired of talking to me? I tried not to feel hurt. Maybe he just needed more painkillers.

  “Yeah, I guess. You need anyone to get your schoolwork?”

  “Ryan and Juliette are handling it.” Paxton’s voice was remote. “But thanks.”

  I ducked my head, feeling weirdly vulnerable. “Okay.” I glanced at Paxton from under my lashes, wanting him to look at me, but he didn’t. “Race you to the door?”

  Paxton glanced over, then gave a small laugh. He lobbed the football at me again. Grinning with relief I couldn’t quite find a reason for, I tossed it back and stood to go.

  “Hey,” Paxton said, and I paused. “You want to borrow my car while I’m in here?”

  My jaw nearly dropped. Of all the weird things that had happened this year ... well, arson was still the most shocking. But Paxton offering me his car keys was a seriously close second.

  “Aren’t you afraid I’ll paint it pink and name it Cuddlebunnies or something?”

  “Deathly.” Paxton grabbed his keychain from his bedside table and worked off the BMW fob. He handed it to me. “At least give it a manly name?”

  My hand closed on the plastic, still warm from his fingers. “Sugar Cookie it is.” Paxton groaned, and I slipped the key fob into my pocket. “Thanks.” Then we were smiling at each other. I turned to go.

  “Rose,” Paxton said. I paused in the doorway. “He still lied to you.”

  And to him. “I know.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Hayley called on Sunday and asked if I wanted to hit a movie with her.

  “It’s a date!” I said, and scrambled to my closet. “Meet you there in fifteen and we’ll get brunch beforehand?” She agreed, and I flung my phone on my bed so I could get dressed. I felt like jumping up and down. After yesterday’s weirdness, I’d thought Hayley and I were destined to stick at the acquaintance level of the friendship meter.

  Then a dark cloud obliterated my excitement. Was this me accepting that Alina would never hit the Sunday matinee with me again? She’d said precisely zero words to me this week, basically pretending I didn’t exist.

  Of course, I hadn’t tried to talk to her either. I felt like she should be the one apologizing, not me. But Alina wasn’t one for apologies. Even when she did sort of say she was sorry, it was silent, tacit, hidden in other words. It was because her dad apologized to her mom all the time; the words had lost their meaning to Alina. Actions counted for her, not syllables.

  I realized I was staring blankly into my closet, and shook myself. Alina and I weren’t friends anymore, and with how awfully she’d been treating me, I wasn’t sure I wanted her friendship back anyway.

  Oh, who was I kidding? I did want my best friend back, but I wanted nice Alina, the Alina who stood by me and my juice-ruined dress in middle school, the Alina who accompanied me on road trips to nowhere. But she was in the same package as crappy Alina, and I didn’t know if I could just ignore that side anymore.

  I threw on jeans and a sweater, then walked over to the Callaway’s. I checked with Mr. Callaway that it was alright for Paxton to let me use his car, then drove to the movie theater.

  Hayley was already there. I parked next to her.

  “Is that Paxton’s car?” she said as I hopped out.

  “Yup. He’s letting me borrow it, since he can’t drive it now and my dad had to sell mine.” Wait, why were Hayley’s eyes narrowing? It wasn’t like there was a rule against borrowing your friend’s ex’s car. Was there? “What?”

  “Nothing,” Hayley muttered. “So where do you want to
eat?”

  We settled on the waffle place within walking distance. Once we’d ordered, I started talking cheer strategy, but Hayley kept giving me weird looks. Angry looks. Finally I paused.

  “Are you mad at me?”

  Hayley crossed her arms. “Is there a reason I should be?”

  “You tell me.” I searched my brain for anything I could have done to offend her, but came up empty.

  Hayley leaned back against the booth cushion.

  “There’s something going on between you and Paxton, isn’t there?” Her voice was soft, but buried deep was a broken-bottle edge.

  “What?” I blinked at her. “I mean, he’s helping me try to clear my name, but--”

  “When did he start helping you?”

  “Um. A couple of weeks ago. Why?”

  “So what, it’s just coincidence that he broke up with me out of the blue right around the time you two started hanging out?” Tears shimmered in Hayley’s eyes like little accusations. She jabbed her finger at the parking lot. “And now you’re driving his car?”

  “I’m just borrowing it.” She huffed, like she didn’t buy it, and my breath lodged in my throat like a fishbone. Oh no, she thought ... “Hayley, I swear, there’s nothing going on. He’s just helping me try and figure out who set me up.” Hayley’s suspicious expression faltered, but only a little. “Hayley, I love Ryan.” Well, I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about Ryan anymore, but I had to convince Hayley. “Look, I just got my boyfriend stolen from me a few weeks ago. It hurt.” Understatement alert. I felt my eyes grow hot with my own tears. “It still hurts. Please, you have to believe me that there’s no way I’d do that to you.”

  Hayley studied me doubtfully. Our waiter arrived with our waffles, piled high with strawberries and whipped cream. “Here you go, girls.” He plunked them onto the table cheerfully, then glanced between us, at our set faces. “Alright then.” He left.

  “Hayley, I swear,” I said, feeling desperate. “Nothing is going on.” Was I about to lose a friend before we even got close? My stomach roiled, and the beloved scent of strawberry syrup nearly made me gag.

  Finally Hayley sighed. She raked a hand through her long brown hair and gave me a semi-apologetic look. “I didn’t want to think so, but it just ... it was so sudden, you know? And he acts different towards you now. I wondered if maybe he broke up with me because he likes you.”

  “No way.” Paxton was nicer now, but that was because he felt sorry for me. Right? I frowned. “Wait, so if you thought I was seeing Paxton behind your back, why’d you want to hang out today?”

  Hayley shrugged. “I wanted to see if it was true.”

  I pointed to our plates.

  “And if it was, we were just going to eat waffles together?”

  “No.” She laughed. “If it was true, I was going to stick you with the check.” I smiled too, in relief that she believed me. It was like the rush of warm air when you come inside from a snowy day. I was too used to people judging me guilty without trial these days.

  “So you really were framed?” Hayley asked, and picked up her fork.

  “Yeah.” I told her about taking the deal so my dad wouldn’t get fired, and gave her a quick rundown of my side of what happened that night.

  Hayley paused with a scoop of whipped cream halfway to her mouth.

  “Look, if there’s anything I can do, let me know,” she said seriously.

  “I will. Thanks.” I felt tears well again, this time from gratitude, and took a huge bite of waffle to cover them. We talked about cheer stuff after that, how to get the squad ready for semi-regionals next weekend, then went to the movie.

  Driving home, I mulled over what Hayley had said. She’d really thought there was something between me and Paxton? Crazy. Like padded-room crazy. Although now that she’d pointed it out, his breakup timing was sort of odd. But it didn’t mean anything. Sure, we’d started hanging out again, and we’d had fun on our Science Club Spy Mission, but that was it.

  Right?

  ~ ~ ~

  Paxton checked out of the hospital on Tuesday, but didn’t show up at school for the rest of the week. After what Hayley said, I kept driving to and from school with Lindsay, only using Paxton’s car if I went out afterwards. My parents and I went over to the Callaway’s for dinner on Thursday, but Paxton didn’t talk much. He seemed irritable, withdrawn. He retreated to his room before his mom served dessert, so I didn’t get a chance to talk to him.

  I nearly went over on Friday after practice, since I had nothing to do, but I couldn’t help but remember Hayley’s suspicions. Did Paxton secretly like me? I didn’t think so. Sure, he’d loaned me his car, but until very recently, he’d hated my guts. He’d only started helping me out of pity and because he felt partially responsible. But I felt nervous every time I considered going over to cheer him up, so I wandered downstairs instead.

  My mom was in the den. She smiled at me. “You know what I’m in the mood for?”

  “A serious talk?” I said hopefully, but my mom acted like I hadn’t spoken.

  “A Disney marathon! What do you say?”

  I stared at her, then sighed. If she didn’t want to hear about my problems, she could at least help me forget them. “Sure.” We made popcorn and settled on the couch. My mom acted, as usual, like everything was great. I tried not to be annoyed, but resentment built under my skin.

  Halfway through Beauty & the Beast it occurred to me that my mom was so oblivious because my dad and I let her get away with it. Like now. I paused the movie.

  “Mom, why won’t you talk to me?” I asked.

  My mom ruffled my hair.

  “What do you mean, Rosy Posy? We talk all the time.”

  “Not really. And never about--” I had to force words past the sudden tears in my throat. “I feel like ... the arson thing, you’re just ignoring it.” My mom looked at me with wide blue eyes. In the past, this was the point where I’d back down, pretend I’d misspoken so I didn’t feel like I was kicking a kitten. This time, I made myself continue. “I feel like you abandoned me.”

  The blue eyes filled with hurt. “Well, this accusation is coming out of nowhere.” My mom stood up, and I knew she was about to flee. “I’m going to go put some cayenne pepper on this popcorn, okay?” She was out of the room in five seconds.

  I sat there in the dark, my eyes on the screen. Disappointment seeped in, but not surprise. What had I expected? My mom had been like this since as far back as I could remember. I wondered if she even had it in her to be the mom I wanted her to be.

  After a few minutes, my mom came back. “I added more butter too,” she said as she plopped down next to me. She held out the bowl. “Yum!”

  I took some popcorn, and focused on the cayenne pepper burn in my mouth so I wouldn’t cry. When the movie ended, I went upstairs without a word. I felt I’d lost something tonight, or maybe never had it in the first place. It was like I kept trying to lean against a support beam, and was only now discovering it was hollow.

  After getting ready for bed, I went to my window and gazed at the Callaway’s house through the trees. There was no way Paxton had some sort of secret crush me. And as for me ... I still loved Ryan.

  No, I don’t.

  The realization whispered through my heart, then ripped like a chainsaw.

  I sat down hard, nearly missing my bed. Loving Ryan had been a given in my life for months now, and I’d thought it would be forever. But it hurt, so much, that he’d let me--was still letting me--believe that he’d cheated. The Ryan I’d loved would never have done that. He’d stepped off the pedestal I’d had him on, and in doing so had broken my heart. Maybe things could still be fixed somehow, but I felt like the shining, solid love we’d had was gone.

  Before I knew it, I was crying, deep sobs I muffled with my pillow
so my parents wouldn’t hear. I cried over the little things, like losing Cloudmonster, and the big things, like losing Ryan, and the scary things, like my unknown enemy. I cried because my mom would rather sing Disney songs than really talk to me, and my dad would rather me sign a false confession than him lose his job. I cried because it cut me up inside that everyone thought I’d torched Ryan’s boat, and because I didn’t know if I’d ever manage to clear my name.

  When all that remained of my tears were snotty tissues and a damp pillow, I sat back up. I felt empty, and wanted more than anything to talk to Alina. I sighed, and glanced out my window. Hayley’s words flashed at me, but I shook my head.

  This was dumb. Paxton and I were just starting to be friends again, and I couldn’t avoid him now when he needed cheering up. I recognized the signs of wallowing, and knew Paxton cared more about football and his shattered season than he let on. I was brutally familiar with how it felt to lose something you loved, and I didn’t think all the Star Trek episodes in the world were going to make Paxton feel better.

  I fell asleep trying to figure out what could.

  Chapter 17

  Saturday I woke up with a plan. The weather was warmer than it had been in weeks ... swimsuit warm. My house was sadly pool-less, but Paxton’s wasn’t. I made a list, asked my dad if I could use the credit card to pick up some food, and went to the grocery store. By eleven-thirty, everything was ready.

  “See?” My dad said as I loaded the packed cooler into the backseat of Paxton’s Beemer. “Everything worked out. You’ve got a car again.”

  “Yeah,” I said after a moment. Did my dad really think this was a good thing? I fixed an expression of enthusiasm on my face. “It’s so great Paxton broke his leg and can’t drive.”