Page 21

“That was a dramatic sigh.”

I shake off those thoughts and turn on my perky personality. “I was just thinking how Hadley is a little in love with herself.”

“A little? Seems to be the relationship she’s most committed to.”

His dry tone makes me laugh. Maybe a little too loud, but that’ll be the vodka I told Dad wouldn’t be there tonight. God forbid I kick back a little.

As usual, the party was a total bore. Too much booze and too many laughs at other people’s expense. The girls drooled over Troy, and the boys tried to make him feel unwelcome with their small-penis energy. Troy doesn’t have small-penis energy. Or a small penis.

Wow. I’m pleased that was an inside thought or else this car might be wrapped around a pole. But Troy is like no one else I’ve known. He’s not like the idiot boys I’ve dated or the arrogant men I’ve grown up around. When he looks at me, it’s like he sees me for who I am. I’m not an annoyance or an accessory or something to be controlled. I’m not a prize to be won either. He just seems to like me for me.

He puts up with all my crazy, and he doesn’t care that my dad thinks he’s trash. That he’s refused to meet him, not that I’ve admitted this out loud. I suppose I should be happy my dad is showing some interest at last, even if that interest isn’t about me. He only remembers he has a daughter when he needs an accessory to support his public persona of an upstanding family man.

“This is my daughter, Clara. She’s an English major at Brown.”

Trying majorly hard not to flunk out, more like.

Unlike Troy, who is way smart. He’s so focused and driven, I know he’ll do great things with his life. He’s funny and so handsome that it hurts to look at him sometimes. It hurts me in my heart and in my soul, but in a way that feels good. He makes me feel full. Balanced. Like I mean something in this world. And when he kisses me, holy heck! It’s like the only time ever my brain is truly quiet. But when summer is over . . .

A heaviness sinks inside me, and I turn to the side window again. The trees and the countryside flick by like the restless thoughts that skim through my head. I try to contain them, but there’s no tuning out. And I try not to shift in my seat, to maintain some sense of decorum. Dad’s words, not mine.

In an effort to seem normal, I change the music. Open the window a little, then close it again when the wind messes my hair.

“You’re bored.” It’s not an accusation, but the usual excuses tumble out of my mouth.

“No. I’m fine. Good, in fact.” I give a cheek-aching smile, then press my lips to his knuckles when he isn’t fully placated. Nothing to see here—Clara Forbes is a totally normal girl.

“You can be bored, you know. I won’t take it as an insult.”

“I’m never bored when I’m with you.” My solemn tone catches even me off guard.

“Okay.” But I note the tiny pinch in his brow.

“Never—not even when we’re doing nothing but watching reruns of Friends.” He shoots me an indulgent look. “Because you’re my lobster.”

“Your lobster, huh?” I don’t think he knows what that means because during that episode, we started kissing and then . . . yummy.

I pick up my phone and input my code before dropping it to my knee again as I sense the weight of his scrutiny. “I’m fine.”

“Bored.”

“Maybe a little understimulated?” I suggest when it’s clear he’s not giving up. What I am is stressed. I’m already questioning how Dad will be when I get home while trying to work out how to stop Troy from walking me to the door. The short answer is, I can’t.

So when the front door closes behind me, the bitching will start.

“Is that what you want for yourself, Clara? A man who drives a fifteen-year-old car? A man whose mother cleans our toilets?”

“Isn’t that the same thing, though?”

My brain is loud tonight. And it’s tiring. But I mentally backtrack and pick up the previous thread. “This is . . . well, it’s more like it’s internal.” Inside. Where things don’t make a lot of sense.

“That sounds expensive,” he says with a soft snort.

“Everything about me is expensive. You know that.” I paint on a smile, aiming for adorable. Maybe sexy. If only I could fix myself like a car or a computer.

Don’t worry, Clara’s due an engine tune-up—her operating system just needs an update.

“Everything about you is perfect. Even the crazy bits.”