Despite what happened between us on the beach, when I see Spike the tension inside me relaxes a little. “You’ve been playing volleyball a lot lately,” I say.
He grins goofily. “Sometimes I get tired of the Bitchy Bunch.”
I snort a laugh. I can’t help it. “I call them the Zombie Squad,” I admit.
“Nice.” Spike glances at my pizza slice. “Where you headed?”
“I was going out to my car to get something.” I duck my head.
“I’ll go with you,” Spike says. He jogs over to where the guys are hanging out under the net, taking a break, and talks to them for a second. I consider just leaving. I’m not sure I want company. But by the time the thought runs through my head, he’s back and we’re walking toward my car.
It still gives me a little twinge to hang out with Spike. I’m still not sure how I feel about him. And I don’t know if I want to change things between us.
I open the trunk of the station wagon and we hop up to sit partway in, our legs dangling down over the bumper. Spike leans back on his elbows while I nibble at my rapidly congealing pizza.
“For the record,” Spike says suddenly, “I know you didn’t have anything to do with that blog. Cassie keeps saying you must have been spreading dirt around, but she’s just looking for someone to blame.”
“Yeah, that sounds like Cassie,” I say, a little glumly.
“Anyway, we all know the very idea of you blogging is ridiculous.”
“Oh really?” I raise my eyebrows at him.
“Dude,” he says. “Come on. You writing a blog? You barely go online. You don’t even answer email. Even when you’re not mad at people.” He flicks me on the arm. “Plus, I know you’re not the vengeful type.”
“I’m not mad at you. I just—things have been weird lately. At home.”
“Why, did your parents kick it up a notch? What is it now? Hot yoga? Bollywood music videos in your living room?”
I almost laugh.
“No. Not that.” I swallow hard. “I think my aunt is going to divorce my uncle.”
“Your aunt Mina? Isn’t that a good thing? It sounded like your uncle was kind of a … um, douchebag,” he says apologetically.
“Well, yeah. For a while I was afraid she was going to go back to him. But now that it seems like she’s ready to leave him for good, I’m just … ” My eyes sting for a moment and I hold my breath until I’m calm again. “It’s weird, that’s all. She’s living with us right now. My uncle’s not taking it well. Things are really tense.”
Spike reaches a hand up as if he’s going to touch my shoulder, then pulls back. I feel a little hurt, but it’s my own fault. I try to smile reassuringly at him.
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “It’s just been kind of crazy. I—”
“I thought I’d find you here in your hidey-hole.”
I whip my head around. Mikaela is standing in front of me, smiling slightly, one hand on her hip and one booted foot tapping.
Several different emotions start warring inside me: outrage, relief, anxiety. I put down my pizza, trying to look casual.
“I didn’t know you were here today,” I say neutrally.
“Yeah, well, I’m here on the good graces of Madam Ibuprofen,” she says. “And I’m not going anywhere near the lunch line.”
“Yeah? Must have been a wild night. All forty-eight hours of it,” I can’t resist saying.
“Yeah, ha ha. Look, no offense,” Mikaela says, turning toward Spike, “but we need a girly moment here.”
“Don’t listen to her. She orders everyone around all the time.” I don’t want Spike to leave. I’m not ready for this conversation.
“It’s fine.” Spike swings himself off the trunk, grinning at both of us. “I should get back to my game anyway. But I get it. I’m too much man for you all, I know. Say no more.” He rubs a hand back and forth over his hair until it stands on end, then saunters back toward the volleyball courts. I watch him walk off, feeling helpless.
“For Christ’s sake,” Mikaela mutters, leaning on the back bumper of the Volvo and picking at a hole in her purple tights. “He’s so … sweaty.”
I don’t answer. I know she didn’t come here to talk about Spike.
“Sunny—” Mikaela looks up at the sky, then down at her tights again. “Look. Sorry I didn’t call you back. Everything went a little nuts.”
“I’ll say.” I look at her as steadily as I can. “When you didn’t answer your phone last night, I figured you were irrevocably pissed at me, but you know what? I was pissed, too. You and Cody ganged up on me again, Mikaela.” My voice rises a little. “What was I supposed to think?”
I don’t even bother to tell her how worried I was, how afraid I was that she might have done something stupid with Cody, because right now, it’s all I can do to keep my anger from overwhelming me.
“I didn’t—” Mikaela lets out a frustrated noise. “Okay. I’ll tell you the whole story. But you have to know I had nothing to do with that stupid blog! Couldn’t your underhearing tell you that much?” She looks at me briefly. There are tears brimming in the corners of her eyes, but they don’t spill.
I don’t say anything.
“Fine,” she says. “I know, I know. You’re Miss Perfect. You’d never use your underhearing for anything other than to help other people. Oh, except for Cody,” she concludes bitterly.
“That’s not fair,” I say quietly. But it still stings.
The silence stretches out between us like a minefield. And she still hasn’t told me what happened.
“Well,” she says, finally breaking the silence, “That’s how I felt. After you left his house, I was really pissed at you. It seemed like you just walked off, like you didn’t even want to help. I mean, shit, it’s Cody. But a couple of hours later, his parents get home, and I’m scrambling my ass out of there as fast as I can, and I hear his dad yelling something about how Cody was supposed to be at work an hour ago, and what the hell kind of crap did he think he was trying to pull, not showing up for the job he’d helped him get, and how did he expect to ever pay for the repairs on the car.”
“So … okay, so then what?” I gaze at Mikaela levelly, knowing there has to be more.
“So then, nothing. So then I hightail it to the nearest bus stop hoping his parents didn’t notice I was there and drinking their booze. That’s when I was most pissed at you. You were supposed to be my ride, and then on top of that I left my phone on the bus.”
“Well, I figured you didn’t need a ride. I figured you wanted some alone time with Cody,” I say sarcastically. “Since you guys are so tight these days. And I’m apparently totally useless, since I’m not going to use my underhearing at everyone’s beck and call.”
“Oh, come on,” Mikaela says. Her voice is frustrated. “I don’t think that at all.”
“Okay, but you were going along with him and pressuring me to do something I really can’t do. I wouldn’t lie about that. And even if I could do it … I wouldn’t. You know that.”
“I know!” She sounds miserable, cowed.
“So, what? You were drunk? Lust-crazed? You can’t resist his eyebrow ring?”
She lets out a loud, aggravated groan. “Okay, so maybe I made out with him a little. I shouldn’t have. It was dumb.”
I think about that for a long minute, but I’m surprised to find I don’t care much one way or the other. “Whatever.”
Her voice is bleak. “I just kept trying to convince myself that he—that we had a chance. That if we got together, then somehow everything would just fall into place. And … I guess I already knew that was wrong. But I felt so desperate. And on top of that I was scared you were still mad at me about the stupid solstice party. I started acting crazy. I kind of went on a bender.”