Chapter 20

I tiptoed into the house, holding my stiletto-heeled shoes, and wearing Conor’s wool socks over my stockings. I was carrying a little bag from the bakery, with a few donuts for Brett.

I closed the door as quietly as I could. I was hoping I could sneak upstairs—Gretchen would no doubt have gone to sleep hours ago.

But when I turned around, I saw a light on in the kitchen, and both Sean and Gretchen—even on crutches—jumped up when they saw me.

Bear started to bark when he saw me, and he raced and jumped on me, nearly knocking me over. I dropped the bag of donuts and he was on top of that immediately, but I managed to get them away from him.

“Is Brett up, too?” I joked as I shrugged out of my jacket.

“No, he’s asleep, but we stayed up half the night worrying about you!” Gretchen said.

“What?” I asked.

“I was worried sick about you,” she said. She stared at the socks on my feet. I hoped she wouldn’t ask me about them. I noticed tear stains on her cheeks and felt this sudden stab of very, very intense guilt. You always called. That was our parents’ mantra.

“So was I,” Sean said. “Are you okay?”

I laughed, trying to break the tension. “You were worried? I’m sorry.”

“It’s not funny, Kirsten.” Gretchen sank back down at the kitchen table. “You should have called.”

“Yes. Okay, I probably should have,” I said to Gretchen. “But I didn’t bring my phone. It wouldn’t fit into my purse, remember?”

“Well, I figured that out after I called it five times and I kept hearing this ringing coming from your room,” she said angrily. “How could you not bring your phone?”

“You’re the one who told me I wouldn’t need it—you’re the one who said I should bring this itty-bitty useless purse.” I slammed it down on the counter. Why was she treating me like a twelve-year-old?

“I’m responsible for you when you’re here,” she said. “if you didn’t make it home, I’d have to call Mom and Dad and tell them you were missing, and—”

“Gretchen, don’t you know me well enough to know I can take care of myself?” I asked.

“Someone told me you ran out of the party by yourself. Why did you do that?” Sean asked. “I kept trying to find you.”

“I’m sorry, Sean. Really. I left because…I just wasn’t having a very good time. And you were, and I didn’t want to ruin that, so…”

“How did you get here? Did you walk all the way?” Sean asked. “That’s like ten miles.”

So he hadn’t noticed that Conor and I left at the same time. Didn’t he have a clue that the only other person I really knew here was Conor? He could be so slow sometimes.

“Actually, Sean…I know this is going to sound bad. And I don’t want to hurt your feelings or anything,” I said. “But Conor and I sort of, well, took off together. He gave me a ride home.”

“Are you serious?” Gretchen screamed, pounding the table with her fist.

“Shh! Brett’s sleeping. Anyway, what? I thought you’d be glad I was safe,” I said.

“Wait a second. You and Conor?” Sean looked a little exhausted, as he stood under the fluorescent overhead light, his tie hanging loosely from his collar, his suit jacket unbuttoned. “Since when?”

“Since…I don’t know,” I said. “Tonight?”

“Oh.” Sean sighed. “Well, I just wish you’d told me. I spent half the night looking for you.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “That was really thoughtless of me. You’re right, and I’m sorry, really.”

He looked at me for a second and then shrugged. “Whatever. I’m too tired to deal with it right now. See you guys.”

I hurried after him to the front door. “Sean, I’m sorry,” I said again. “I hope I didn’t ruin the night. I mean, it seemed like you were having fun and everything.”

“Yeah, it was okay. There’ll be another party soon anyway.” He gave me a half-smile, then walked out the door, and I watched him start jogging up the block toward his house.

When I turned around, Gretchen was sitting on the living room sofa, waiting for me. Her body language and tone of voice said it clearly: I hate you right now. “Since when are you interested in Conor?”

“Since…a while ago. I mean, not that long, but he really, I don’t know, grew on me, I guess you could say. I kind of just figured it out myself,” I admitted as I sat across from her.

“Does everyone else know?” she asked.

“No. Why would you ask that?”

“Because! You tell your friends more than you tell me. You always have,” she said in a hurt tone.

“They don’t know either, okay? It’s private,” I said. “I don’t want to talk about everything with everyone. Some things should be private.”

She buried her face in her hands. “Private. That means you’re having sex, that’s why you didn’t come home until two in the morning—”

I felt like throwing a magazine from her cutesy wood magazine rack at her. “No, it doesn’t! That’s not me at all. You don’t even know me.”

“I do,” she said. “And that’s why I think you should really consider staying with Sean.”

“What? Are you crazy?”

“No. And I resent that. I think I know a little more about guys and relationships than you do, Kirsten.”

“Okay, Mom,” I said. “Spill. Tell me your wisdom.”

“I think things could really work out with you and Sean. He’s a great guy—”

“So is Conor,” I interrupted. “Do you know how many nice things Conor has done since I got here?” I told her about the times he’d made sure I was okay. I left out the bit about insulting me and running over my foot with a grocery cart.

“So he likes to follow you around,” she said. “Does that prove anything?”

“Yes. Actually, it does,” I said. “You don’t know Conor. You said so yourself.”

“But what’s wrong with Sean? And how could you just ditch him at that party? He asked you to go with him, and you run out with his brother?”

“It wasn’t like that,” I said.

“I bet.”

“Honestly! First of all, Sean and I were already, like, running on fumes. We didn’t have anything in common. And once we hit the party, that was so obvious. He kept hanging out with his pals, and these other girls—we danced together like twice.”

“He said you had a nice time, until you vanished,” Gretchen said.

“So you’ve never known two people to have different versions of the same events?” I just stared at her. “Sean barely knew I was there. But that was okay! Maybe I was keeping my distance, too, maybe that was part of the problem. Because I’d realized I wanted to be with Conor.”

“You went about it all wrong,” Gretchen said. “You made a mess of everything. And I don’t understand why you wouldn’t just break your date with Sean if—”

“I know, I probably should have,” I said. “In retrospect. But at the time, I felt like I had to go through with it. Sean was counting on me, you were counting on me—”

“So now it’s my fault?” She shook her head. “Kirsten, you have a lot to learn about maturity.”

“So do you,” I shot back. “You sit around here doing nothing but telling me how to run my life and how I should look and what I should wear and who I should date. You know, I’m really sorry about your divorce and I’m sorry about your leg, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me how to live my life, okay? ’Cause I don’t really admire the way you live yours. So why don’t you focus on your own for a change?”

I took a deep breath after all the words came out. I guess I’d been saving them up for a while.

Gretchen practically snorted. “You don’t know anything. The reason I’m so mad about staying up late tonight is that I have an interview tomorrow and I’m going to look like—like—crap, thanks to you!”

“What?” I asked quietly, still feeling guilty about my mini-tirade.

“I have an interview. For a job. It’s a second interview, actually,” she said.

“No way.” I started to laugh a little. Everything was out in the open now, and we were still talking. “Really? That’s so cool.”