Secondary Characters Read online

  It’s just a movie, right? And it’s not like Lance thinks it’s a date, either. He’s just being dragged along by Nick. Besides, he’ll have to be quiet during the movie. Right? I hate people that talk during movies.

  I bet he talks during movies.

  I’m staring at the back of his head when he glances over his shoulder and catches me staring. I immediately drop my head back down to my book. Was he looking at me, too?

  I wonder if Amber’s right, if he’s dreading Saturday night as much as I am.

  So you’ll come to my house to get ready tomorrow, right?” Amber asks in front of my locker after school on Friday, checking her face in the mirror of her compact.

  I drop my forehead against my locker door. “When exactly did I agree to doing this?”

  Suddenly I hear a confident male voice behind me. “See you tomorrow night.”

  Nick grins at Amber. His whole face is lit up. Lance stands behind him, his hands in his pockets.

  “We’re looking forward to it!” Amber says.

  Lance rushes forward and picks Nick up, swinging him over his shoulder. “I’ll make sure he gets there on time and behaves himself.” Nick slugs him in the back and Lance drops him back on his feet. They head down the hall laughing and taking swings at each other.

  “See you tomorrow, Mabel,” Lance calls down the hallway between slugs.

  I turn and glare at Amber. “Oh yeah, this is going to be big fun.”

  We’re sitting in Amber’s room on Saturday night as she picks out eye shadows and the perfect shade of pink lip gloss. She insisted on doing my hair, and now my dark locks are in a long, loose side braid that hangs over my shoulder. I’m wearing a new, deep-red sweater that looks great against my dark olive skin. Amber’s pale blue shirt was specifically picked for the way it makes her eyes look even bluer.

  “I can’t believe you talked me into this,” I say for probably the eighteenth time since I got here. I don’t know why I bother to repeat myself. I said “no” about five hundred and six times this week and it did me no good.

  “It’ll be fun.” She dismisses my comment with one wave of her perfectly manicured hand and finishes perfecting her make-up.

  “You know, you keep saying that. And yet, somehow, I am still unconvinced.”

  “Oh come on, Maybie. Lance is a nice guy. Plus, he’s totally hilarious. He’s pretty cute, too.” She says that last line like a footnote.

  “He’s a nimrod,” I grumble at the floor.

  She tilts her head back and laughs. “Who says ‘nimrod’?”

  The smell of barbeque hits us as soon as we open the door to the restaurant. The boys are already there waiting for us and I have to admit she’s right about one thing. Lance is pretty damn cute. He’s wearing a somewhat tight, long-sleeved Henley that totally shows off his broad shoulders and muscled chest. For some reason his eyes look especially blue tonight. His light brown hair is falling across his forehead and he’s smiling. He actually has a really, really nice smile. Dimples and everything.

  Too bad it’ll be ruined when he opens his big, dumb mouth.

  No matter how cute he is, he pales next to Nick, who looks like an ad for The Gap with his dark blond hair, tan skin, and perfect white teeth. Seriously, I keep waiting for them to “ping” and make a little starburst in his mouth. He’s almost too good looking. I glance over at Amber.

  I always look a little more plain standing next to her.

  Her blonde hair hangs down her back in waves, like some sort of fairytale princess. Her eyes are blue and surrounded by dark, thick lashes. Her pale-pink lip gloss perfectly accentuates her pouty smile. Nick is looking at her like pretty much every guy looks at her: like she’s a Victoria Secret model. They are grinning at each other with big cartoon hearts in their eyes.

  Sometimes I’d really love to hate her, but she’s just so sweet. It’s annoying as all hell.

  I may not be stunning perfection, but I actually do look pretty good tonight. Too bad it’s being wasted on Lance.

  I sit in the booth next to Amber. Nick and Lance sit across from us, staring at their menus and saying nothing. We listen to the faint country music and other people having actual conversations around us.

  I glance at Amber. She tips her chin down and away from the boys and cups her hand over her forehead, looking at me with wide eyes as if to say, “My God woman, say something!”

  Nick’s phone buzzes on the table next to him. He picks it up and starts texting. Well, nice to know he has something to say to someone.

  Lance stares at Nick for a second, then clears his throat and looks at us. “So, what movie do you guys want to see?”

  “How about that new Sarah Jessica Parker one?” Amber says.

  “Ugh. I can’t stand her,” Lance says, making a face.

  I snort.

  “What?” he asks, his head jerking up to look at me.

  I shake my head and play with my straw, knocking around ice cubes. “Guys always hate her because she’s not ‘classically’ beautiful. She’s a perfectly good actress.”

  He puts his elbow on the table and holds up one finger. “First of all, my problem with her has nothing to do with her looks. There’s something about her demeanor that makes me uncomfortable. She always looks pissed off.” He holds up another finger. “Second, I don’t think she is a good actress. She’s got like three facial expressions.” Lance raises a third finger. “And third, she has the face of a horse.” He doesn’t so much as smirk, but his eyes slide over to Nick.

  Nick snorts into his Pepsi and then they both start laughing like it’s so freaking hilarious.

  They’re so irritating and I know I can’t let Lance get the last word. “People tell me I look like her,” I say.

  They don’t, but I’m hoping it will shut Lance up. It does. He chokes on his Mountain Dew, then stares at me, his mouth hanging open like a wide-mouthed frog. He’s even turning a little pink on the sides of his face. “But, but,” he stutters. “You don’t …”

  That’s right. I hope you feel like a real ass.

  Amber flips her hair over her shoulder. “People tell me I look like Reese Witherspoon,” she says, diffusing the moment and giving him an out. I could smack her.

  He turns to her with relief written all over his face and grins at her like an idiot. “Now that is a comparison I could see.”

  Of course it is.

  The meal goes from awkward and uncomfortable to painfully torturous. I think it would be more fun to watch a public execution. Or have one. Okay, I’m exaggerating a little bit. (But not by much.)

  It’s ridiculously obvious the date isn’t going well. Amber does her best to at least drag some small talk out of Nick.

  “So, what’s your favorite class?”

  “I don’t know.” Nick shrugs. His phone buzzes and he picks it up, texting someone under the table.

  “What kind of movies do you like?”

  “Whatever.” He’s still looking at the phone. He’s not even my date and I’m irritated. I want to reach over and smack his phone right out of his hand.

  “Okay. What kind of music do you listen to?”

  He glances up and around, like he’s looking for the source of the music in the restaurant. “Not country.” He makes a face then shoves a small pile of French fries into his mouth.

  Lovely.

  He sets the phone back down and gives Amber a big grin, but I for one no longer find it quite as dazzling. Amber seems unimpressed as well. She does not smile back.

  “How about you? What do you listen to?” he asks, but then that stupid cell starts buzzing again and he quickly picks it up. He doesn’t even notice Amber rolling her eyes.

  It turns out Nick’s kind of a big, incredibly handsome dud, and Amber starts spending far more time talking with Lance.

  And he’s totally talking her up. I narrow my eyes at him and try to figure out if he’s trying to swoop in on his best friend’s date. What a scumbag.

  Mike’s face flash
es in my mind, with his stupid little goatee, and I quickly force it back out.

  Do all guys suck? Or does being around Amber just bring out the stupid caveman in them?

  Must. Have. Beautiful. Girl. Now.

  Not that Nick’s any better, I guess. I seriously doubt Amber will be interested in either one of them. This whole evening has been a giant waste of time. Big shock.

  “How’s everyone doing?” The waitress shows up to clear our plates and put an end to the dinner date from hell. “Is anyone wanting dessert?”

  “Yes, I’d like a malt with two straws,” Lance says and we all turn and stare at him. Prolonging this meal is the last thing any of us want. Not to mention that there is no way I’m sharing a malt with him. What is this, 1950?

  Unless he’s thinking Amber will.

  “You prefer chocolate, right … Nick?” He looks at Nick with one eyebrow raised and that obnoxious grin on his face again.

  Nick laughs. “Shut up, jackass.” It relieves the tension, for a moment at least.

  I let out a sigh and Amber laughs. We tell the waitress we’re done and get out of there as fast as humanly possible. In the parking lot I’m half-tempted to say my stomach hurts and we had better just head home.

  “We’ll see you at the theater,” Lance says too quickly, and the guys jump into their car.

  I turn to Amber and stare at her, crossing my arms over my chest and jutting out my hip. I’m trying to give her my best “what the hell where you thinking?” look, but I’m having a hard time not smirking at her. She’s pinching the bridge of her nose, and her mouth is so tight her lips have all but disappeared. Serves her right for dragging me into this.

  “I don’t want to hear it,” she says, putting her hand in the air before sliding into her car and slamming the door. I get into the passenger seat and keep my comments to myself.

  The guys beat us to the theater and buy tickets to some scary movie. I hate scary movies. When we watch them at slumber parties I’m the one who always ends up with a blanket over her head and her hands over her ears. I would object, but they’ve already bought the tickets. Besides, I don’t want to look like a big, fat chicken.

  We find seats in the middle of the theater. I sit down next to Amber, and Nick immediately sits on the other side of her. Lance hesitates for just a moment before sitting down next to me.

  The lights go down and the opening music fills the theater, and I can already feel my body tensing up.

  Lance leans in real close to me. “If the movie gets too scary,” he starts to whisper but I cut him off. I hate all that macho, caveman, I’ll protect you crap.

  “I think I’ll be fine,” I say curtly, even though the truth is I’m not really sure of that at all.

  “Oh, I know. It’s me I’m worried about,” he says, putting his hand to his chest. “I hate horror movies. They totally freak me out.” His eyes are wide with pretend fright and I smile back in spite of myself.

  He glances around the theater like he’s looking for spies, then leans closer, putting his hand next to his mouth, and whispers, “I wanted to bring my teddy, but Nick said it wasn’t very manly.”

  A small laugh bursts out of me and I quickly cover my mouth with my hand. The movie’s started so I put my finger to my lips to “shhh” him, but I’m smiling. He winks and then turns back to the screen.

  Chapter Four

  The theater is dark, but there’s enough light coming from the screen to light up Mabel’s face. She looks amazing. I know Nick is drooling over Amber, but she’s kind of boring-pretty. There’s nothing really unique about her. Mabel, on the other hand, has a warm, earthy sort of beauty to her. Her dark, wide-set eyes are totally gorgeous. With her delicate features and her cute little freckled nose, she kind of looks like a wood nymph.

  There is no way in hell anyone could think she looks like Sarah Jessica Parker. Besides, I was just joking anyway, but now she probably thinks I’m a complete jerk. If she didn’t already.

  At least Amber will talk to me.

  Thank God for that, too, or dinner would really have been silent. It’s hard to believe, but I think Nick is actually doing worse than I am on this date. And that’s pretty damn bad.

  I try really hard not to stare at Mabel’s profile during the movie so she doesn’t think I’m a psycho, but it isn’t easy. I love the curves of her face, the slope of her forehead, the way her nose turns up, the pout of her bottom lip.

  I’m all tense and my heart is pounding like crazy. I think hers is, too. Unfortunately, I don’t think it has anything to do with me.

  She looks totally freaked out. She seemed nervous when the movie first started, but now her eyes are wide and she’s biting her bottom lip. Her teeth dig into it to the point where I’m afraid it might actually start to bleed.

  Every time she jumps I flinch a little. All I want to do is put my arm around her and let her bury her head into my chest and close her eyes. But I think putting my arm around her out of the blue might freak her out more than the movie is. So I just sit here like a jackass and do nothing.

  Maybie jumps again, her hand flinging up to cover her mouth. She has a great mouth, wide with dark pink lips. Her hand flies back down to her arm rest. She’s gripping it so tight her knuckles are turning white. I resist the urge to pry her hands off the seat and hold them. Instead I try to come up with another idea.

  ***

  The movie is really frickin’ scary and I want to kill the guys for picking a horror. My whole body is one giant ball of nerves. I jump at everything and my heart is pounding so loud I’m sure the whole theater can hear it.

  The main girl is about to get axed by some freaky serial killer and I can’t handle it any more. I reach down to grab my purse and get out of there when something touches my other hand. I gasp and jump about three feet into the air.

  Lance has put his hand on mine. He leans in close and whispers to me.

  “You know they already signed her on for the sequel?” His face is serious, like he’s trying to tell me something important, but I’m too scattered to figure it out. So scattered I don’t even think to pull my hand away from his.

  “What?” I try to make sense of whatever the hell he’s talking about while I do my best to recover from him scaring the living crap out of me.

  “That actress,” he says, nodding toward the screen. “They’ve already signed her for the sequel. So …” He shakes his head slowly, like he’s waiting for me to say something. “She must make it through this one, right?”

  “Yeah. Wow. You’re right.” I feel tension move out of my shoulders and I lean back into my seat again. But I’m still jittery. I keep my eyes off the screen, staring at the space between us. Lance’s hand is still covering mine. He’s still leaned in close and I notice that he smells really good.

  “Of course, in real life she’d never outrun him in those high heels, but we certainly couldn’t have her up on the big screen in dirty old tennis shoes,” he adds with a wink.

  I shake my head. “I don’t know.” I lean even closer to him. “I can run pretty fast in my heels.”

  I know I said I hate people who talk during movies, but I am just so thankful for the distraction from the bloodbath that I don’t care. It’s sweet of him to notice that I need it.

  “Fast enough to run away from a maniacal ax murderer?” he asks skeptically, his eyebrows raised. His face is just inches from mine and I notice his eyes are all twinkly and blue. I am hyper-aware of his hand on mine. It’s warm, and nice, but it feels like there are giant neon signs pointing to it. Lance’s hand is on Mabel’s! Everyone behold the awkwardness! The conversation isn’t awkward, though. It’s actually pretty easy.

  “Maybe,” I tell him. “I mean, I would guess wielding that giant ax would have to slow him down some, right?”

  “That’s a good point,” he says, rubbing his chin like he’s really thinking about it. “It might throw his balance off.” His smile is seriously adorable. Those dimples, my God! How did I never no
tice them before? Wait, why am I noticing it now? Maybe it’s just the rush of relief from pulling my mind away from the movie.

  I squeeze my eyes shut for a second to try and regain some sense, then look at him again.

  Nope, he really is cute.

  “I would think so.” I nod knowingly, trying to suppress a smile. Someone a couple rows back shushes us and he makes a face like he’s been caught doing something truly horrendous. I slap my hand over my mouth before I snort out another laugh.

  He grins and then turns back to the screen, pulling his hand away. I kind of wish he hadn’t.

  I’m still looking at him out of the corner of my eye when Amber elbows me in my side.

  “Geez, what?” I turn and whisper to her.

  “You two seem to be getting along well,” she says, jabbing her elbow into me a few more times.

  I lean away from her as much as I can without falling out of my seat. My arm pushes up against Lance’s. He turns and looks at me for a second. My face heats up and I jump forward again, smiling apologetically at him. He smiles and turns back to the movie. I shake my head, trying to dispel my awkwardness before turning back to Amber.

  “It’s … it’s fine. I guess.” I whisper, leaning closer to her.

  “Uh-huh. Fine. She stretches out the word and elbows me again.

  “Would you stop that?” I hiss, slapping at her arm.

  She snickers, but stops abusing me. “Yeah well, at least he’s talking to you. Nick hasn’t said a word to me, although he has tried to grab my hand,” she grumbles. I feel bad for her.

  The girl in the movie screams, and Amber spins back toward the screen, forgetting all about me.

  When the movie ends (the star escaping just in time, by the way), we file out of the theater. Nick tries to walk with Amber, but she shifts to a power-walk and he finally drops back. Lance and I are walking together, with about a three-foot gap between us. Every few strides he turns and kind of half-smiles at me. When we reach the parking lot we stop for a minute before we have to veer off to our own cars.