Something Borrowed Page 5

  Six

  The next day I worked a double shift to make up for taking off for the wedding most of the following week. During my lunch break I hid out in the back of the perennials section and called Zoom.

  “Dude, you just caught me,” he said, sounding just as laid-back and awesome over the phone as he did in person. “I’m about to head out to the rally.”

  “Do you still want to get together later?” I asked.

  “Totally! Been thinking about it since yesterday.”

  I shivered, liking the idea of him thinking about me so much. “Me too,” I said. “So where are we going?”

  “Do you know where Thermopylae is?”

  “You mean the music club in Old City?” I absently plucked a dead leaf off a nearby scabiosa. “Yeah, I know it.”

  “I heard this awesome new local band is playing there tonight. Thought we could meet up there around nine. They’ve got totally tasty Greek food too, in case we get the munchies.”

  “Sounds great. I’ll see you then. Oh! And good luck at your bike thing.” As soon as I hung up with Zoom, I dialed Teresa to see if she—and chauffeur Jason—wanted to tag along and make it a double date. She was game, so we were all set.

  I was still doing a mental happy dance over how well things were working out as I returned to work a few minutes later. Even seeing Tommy coming toward me didn’t dampen my spirits. The way everything was going in my life at the moment, that awkward little phone message seemed nothing more but a distant, oddly charming minor memory.

  “Hey, Ava,” he said, swiping a hand through his dark hair. “Mr. Baum wanted me to tell you to go water the herbs.”

  “Okay, I’m on it. Thanks, Tommy.” I smiled at him and hurried off, humming under my breath and trying to figure out what I should wear for my date with Zoom that night.

  Soon I was walking slowly between the wide flats of herb plants, sprinkling them carefully with the curly hose I’d pulled down from the irrigation system overhead. The plants released their fragrances in moist green waves every time I brushed them with my hand or the hose. I breathed in deeply, enjoying the mingling scents of basil, thyme, rosemary, oregano, lavender, and more.

  For the first time in a while—or possibly ever—I was actively looking forward to my sister’s wedding. Going with Lance hadn’t seemed anywhere near as exciting and romantic as going with Zoom did now. I was starting to think that Lance had done me a big favor by dumping me. Our relationship had just about run its course anyway, and this way I could kick off a fun new relationship with Zoom at the wedding.

  Before, all I’d been able to think about the wedding was the bad stuff: how much more hysterical Camille would be by then, how many things were likely to go wrong and send her over the edge, how idiotic I was going to look in the Pink Nightmare. But now here I was, humming cheerfully as I thought about all the fun things that day would bring. Me introducing Zoom to everyone I knew. Zoom watching me walk down the aisle with the other bridesmaids looking regal and gorgeous. (Okay, so I sort of edited the Pink Horror out of that part of the daydream.) Me and Zoom dancing at the reception, maybe sneaking out to the rose arbor behind the hall to steal a kiss or two . . .

  I clicked off the hose and closed my eyes, smiling as I imagined that last tasty little scene. The wedding and reception were taking place at a luxurious old Main Line estate that had been converted into a site for such events. Its lush grounds would be in full bloom this time of year, including a famed rose garden that would serve as the backdrop for some of the formal photos. I could just imagine strolling through that darkened rose garden, hand in hand with Zoom, breathing in the heady floral scent just as I was breathing in the herbs surrounding me right now.

  Okay, so Zoom wasn’t exactly the Latinlover type or anything. But a wedding could bring out the romantic in anybody, right? Maybe as we wandered beneath an arbor he would reach up with one of those long, lean arms of his and pick me a perfect white rose off one of the vines. I opened my eyes just long enough to pluck a sprig of lavender to stand in for the imaginary rose. Closing my eyes again, I held it to my nose and breathed in the romantic scent. Then I tucked it into my hair and wrapped both arms around myself, swaying from side to side and humming a romantic tune. . . .

  Just behind me I heard someone clear his throat. My face went hot as I realized I’d completely forgotten where I was. Could I possibly be more of a dork? I quickly yanked the lavender out of my hair, praying it was only my boss, Mr. Baum, coming by to check on me. He’d known me a long time and was likely to forgive and forget a little wacky behavior, especially considering the circumstances. Tommy, on the other hand, might take this as the final sign I was a complete loon.

  “Uh, hi, Ava.”

  I froze in horror. That wasn’t Mr. Baum’s voice. It wasn’t Tommy’s, either.

  Deciding I couldn’t just stand there with my back to him forever, I forced myself to turn around. “Lance,” I said, taking in his Pep Boys T-shirt and grease-stained hands. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you.”

  I rolled my eyes. Lance had a penchant for stating the obvious. Funny how that hadn’t really bothered me before. In fact I’d once found it charming.

  “Well, here I am.” If he could do it, I could too. “So what do you want?”

  He rubbed his hands together nervously, which made his biceps flex in a rather distracting way. I did my best to ignore that and stay focused on his face, which looked troubled.

  “I feel bad about the other day,” he said. “You know—how we left things between us. I, uh, thought maybe we should talk about it.”

  Wow. Lance had never been much of a conversationalist unless said conversation involved stuff like gear shifts and pistons. He really had to be feeling guilty about his rotten breakup technique to actually seek me out for a relationship chat. Or should that be an ex-relationship chat?

  In any case, it wasn’t my problem anymore. Why waste the time and energy?

  “Sorry,” I said briskly, grabbing the hose and coiling it back into its place. “I have work to do. Now if you’ll excuse me . . .”

  He opened his mouth as if to protest, but I didn’t give him the chance. I hurried off toward the checkout area without a backward glance.

  “Give me a break, Mother! How am I supposed to finalize the seating chart when we don’t even have all the RSVPs yet?” Camille exclaimed. She whirled in her chair. “Daddy, will you talk some sense into her, please?”

  My father had a distant little smile pasted on his ruddy face—an expression that hadn’t changed since we’d all finished dinner an hour or so earlier. I suspected that while his body was still there in the kitchen in the midst of yet another bridal meltdown, his mind was somewhere out around the sixth green at the club.

  I tugged at the hem of my short black skirt and sneaked a peek at my watch. At the moment the sixth green was sounding pretty good to me, too. And I don’t even like golf.

  “Look, Camille,” Mom said. “I don’t know who told you life was always going to be perfect, but it for damn sure wasn’t me. Now, if you’d rather hold out for every last RSVP and risk having your guests milling around aimlessly next Saturday, I can’t—”

  From my spot across from Camille, I saw a flash of headlights through a side window. “My ride’s here,” I interrupted, jumping up and grabbing my purse. “I hate to miss all the fun, but I’ll catch you guys later.”

  “Have a nice evening, Ava,” Dad said. He sounded kind of wistful. I’m sure he would have preferred an evening out with me to staying home with the Bride of Freak-out-instein. And he doesn’t even like popular music.

  I was never so glad to escape from my house. I was even happy to see Jason for once.

  “Whew, you guys got here just in time,” I said as I climbed into the backseat of the Prius. “Hurricane Camille is winding herself up again in there.”

  “So what else is new?” Teresa joked. She looked totally glam in a sparkly black top, dangly silver
earrings, and smoky eye shadow. She cleaned up pretty well when you could peel her out of her barn clothes.

  “Okay, ladies,” Jason said as he pulled out of my driveway. He cleared his throat and put on a fake-silly announcer voice. “Please keep your arms and legs inside the car. Next stop: Thermopylae!”

  I stared at the back of his neck. “You seem awfully enthusiastic tonight.”

  “What can I say? I’m a happy-go-lucky guy.” He grinned at me in the rearview. I noticed his hair looked even more perfect than usual.

  “Whatever.” I turned to Teresa. “Wait until you meet Zoom. He’s the coolest.”

  I heard a snort from the driver’s seat. “What?” I demanded.

  “Did I say anything?” Jason said. “I’m just driving here.”

  “Fine,” I said. “But listen—don’t say anything stupid in front of Zoom, okay? He doesn’t know me that well yet. So none of your oh-so-clever witticisms about my SpongeBob underwear or anything.”

  “Gee, I’d almost forgotten about that.” Jason rubbed his chin and glanced at me again in the rearview. “I wonder if the band would let you get up onstage and flash the audience with your SpongeBobs? Or maybe you’re wearing your Mickey Mouse panties today—after all, it is a special occasion. . . .”

  Oops. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I decided it was time for a change of subject. “Um, so what did you two do today?” I leaned forward and grinned. “I only need the PG-rated version, please. I mean, I realize you are going to be apart for a whole month, so . . .”

  “I told you earlier, Ava. I was at the barn all day.” Teresa didn’t meet my eye; she suddenly seemed very busy looking for something in her tiny black purse.

  I smirked. For someone so confident and practical, the girl could get ridiculously private at the weirdest times. “Okay, then what about you?” I asked Jason. “Did you spend the afternoon working on your hair?”

  He shot me a slightly peeved look. “Is that really what you think I do all day?”

  “Okay, then what?”

  “If you must know, I was doing some programming at my mom’s office. They’re having trouble with their system and she asked me to take a look.”

  “Really? You mean, like, computer stuff?” I was a little surprised, not to mention impressed. Jason’s mother worked for one of the most successful real-estate agencies on the Main Line. If they’d called on Jason for help with their computers, he had to know what he was doing.

  Finally Teresa glanced back at me. “I told you Jason is good with computers.”

  “I guess.” Now that she mentioned it, that did ring a bell. For some reason, I’d always assumed she just meant he had a really cool MySpace page or something. “Speaking of computers, did I tell you guys that Camille fired the guy who set up her wedding website because he didn’t answer the IM she sent him at six a.m.?”

  For the rest of the ride into Philly we talked about the wedding and related subjects. Before I knew it we were cruising through Old City, a cool section of town over by the Delaware River. There were all kinds of art galleries there, along with interesting restaurants and fun shopping. The people you saw there were an eclectic bunch—from funky artists to ordinary local residents to clueless tourists wandering around between visits to the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, and the Betsy Ross House.

  Jason found a parking spot a couple of blocks from Thermopylae. We could hear the thumping beat of the opening act before we even got there. A good-sized crowd was milling around on the sidewalk out front, forcing passersby to dodge them by stepping into the street.

  When we got closer, I squinted at the chalkboard sign out front. “Hey, it says the Manayunk Mucus are playing tonight,” I said. “Isn’t that the band you were listening to the other day, Jason?”

  Teresa shot him a look. “No wonder you were so enthusiastic about tagging along on Ava’s date tonight,” she said. “I was wondering why I didn’t have to talk you into it.”

  I was a little surprised by the coincidence about the featured band. But I was even more surprised when Zoom didn’t show up by nine as he’d promised. Or by nine thirty. Or by ten.

  At a quarter to eleven, I was still waiting. “What’s the deal?” Teresa said into my ear. “What happened to Mr. Right?”

  The Manayunk Mucus had long since taken the stage by then and were in the middle of a loud, fast-paced number. The small club was packed with fans grooving to the tunes. It was so loud and crowded that it was hard to move or think.

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” I shrugged at Teresa and turned away, feeling embarrassed and frustrated. Was Zoom standing me up? For real? I knew I hadn’t imagined his interest in me the other day—he hadn’t made any attempt to hide it. So what was the deal?

  I tried to distract myself from my growing annoyance by watching the lead singer of the Mucus. The whole band was good, but the singer was electrifying. He was almost as tall and skinny as Zoom, with an A-plus butt encased in tight maroon leather and the milky-pale skin of someone who rarely sees the sun. His black hair was punked out in spikes, he wore a jeweled stud in his nose, and his voice was almost as smoky and dark as his eyes, which seemed to grab me by the throat every time they passed over me. I suspected he had that effect on everyone in the audience—or at least everyone female—but it still made my heart beat a little faster every time it happened.

  Jason must have noticed me staring after a while. He leaned closer, resting one hand on the small of my back as he spoke directly into my ear. “Since your other boyfriend is a no-show, why not pick up Mr. Rock Star instead?” he said, his breath tickling my cheek.

  “Very funny,” I said, dodging away from his hand. “And do you mind not feeling me up? Especially right in front of your girlfriend.”

  Jason raised both his hands in a surrender pose. “Sor-ry,” he said. “You’re awfully testy tonight, Ava. Why would that be?” He put one finger to his chin, pretending to think hard. “Oh, right. It must be getting stood up.” He glanced meaningfully toward the stage, where the singer was on his knees, howling out the final note of the current song. “There’s an easy solution to that, you know.”

  “Shut up,” I muttered.

  “Fine, I’m just trying to help.” Jason shrugged, feigning hurt. “Who knows, bringing a guy like that might actually liven up the Prepsville wedding a little.”

  I knew he was joking, but I couldn’t help smiling a little for the first time in more than an hour. It was sort of fun to imagine the look on Camille’s face if I were to show up at her wedding with that guy. I shivered as the singer’s eyes locked on mine from the stage once again. He couldn’t be more than a few years older than me, and Manayunk wasn’t that far away. For a second I almost regretted already having a date. Why did I always spot the most interesting guys when I was already involved? First Andy, now Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Dangerous . . .

  Then again, if Zoom wasn’t going to show tonight, was there any guarantee he’d show up for the wedding? He did seem a little flaky. What if he stood me up next weekend, too?

  “Thanks, everybody!” the lead singer yelled hoarsely into his microphone. “We’re going to take a break. Be back in a few.”

  The band members set down their instruments, hopped down off the front of the small, battered stage, and headed toward the bar. That was going to take them right past us.

  “Go ahead,” Jason hissed, poking me in the back. “Now’s your chance. Tell him you think he’s sex-ay.”

  I shot an elbow back in his general direction, though he dodged it easily. I was so distracted by my irritation with Jason that it took me a moment to notice that the lead singer was almost on top of me. He stopped and looked down at me, those amazing eyes locking onto mine yet again.

  “Enjoying the show, beautiful?” he asked in his husky, smoky, sexy voice.

  I was a little overwhelmed by his closeness, but I did my best to keep my cool. “Yeah,” I flirted back. “Keep up the good work, gorgeous.”

  He grinn
ed and winked before moving on. I tilted my head and shot him my best coy smile in return.

  But it was no good. My heart wasn’t really in it. I was still too busy wondering what in the world had happened to Zoom.

  Seven

  It wasn’t until late the next morning that Zoom finally answered his phone.

  “Dude,” he greeted me, sounding oddly breathy. “I’ve been meaning to call you.”

  “Really?” I said sarcastically. “That’s funny, because I’ve called you about fifty times since you stood me up last night. What’s the matter, are your fingers broken?”

  “Only a couple. But they barely even hurt. My legs—whoa. That’s another story.”

  “Wait. What?” I blinked, my self-righteous indignation deflating as quickly as a balloon running into an angry porcupine. “Um, I mean, what?”

  “Sorry.” He laughed into the phone, though it ended in sort of a cough and wheeze. “Guess the concussion’s making it hard to make sense.”

  “Concussion? What are you talking about? Where are you?”

  “Lower Bucks Hospital.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Dude, I dunno,” he replied. “That’s where the ambulance brought me after I wiped out yesterday.”

  All too slowly the truth was dawning on me. “Wait, so you had an accident at your BMX thing and broke your fingers?” That didn’t sound too bad, even with the concussion thrown in. Sure, it was less than ideal that his hand would probably be splinted in the wedding pictures. But I was sure the photographer could find a way to hide it.

  “Yeah.” He paused to cough and wheeze again. “Two fingers. Two legs. And, uh, like, three ribs. Maybe four—I forget what they said.”

  “Your legs?” I really, really, really hoped I’d misunderstood him. “You broke both your legs?”

  “Listen, Ava,” he said. “About that wedding. I’m not sure I can make it—the docs want me to stick around for a while. You know, for observation. Sorry. I know you were, like, psyched about it.”