Chapter Fourteen — Blair

Blair held the phone away from his ear as Cameron vented his frustration.

“Dude, where were you guys? You totally left us hanging.”

Blair shifted the phone closer to his mouth. “I texted you and told you we wouldn’t be able to make it.”

“Yeah, but then you went radio silent. For all we knew, you had gotten in a car accident and were stranded on the side of the road.”

A girl’s voice piped up from the background. “Or worse, you both had a terrible time and were home by seven-thirty.”

That must be Amanda. Only she would consider a failed date worse than potentially being injured.

“I would have told you if we were stranded, because you would be the one rescuing us,” Blair said.

“Unless your phone was dead,” Cameron said, his tone solemn. “And Sandra’s was crushed in the accident, right before—”

“Okay, I get it,” Blair interrupted, slightly disturbed at the direction this conversation was taking. He didn’t want to know how Cameron’s hypothetical car accident turned out. “I’m sorry I didn’t make more of an effort to keep you updated on our plans.”

“Apology accepted,” Cameron said.

The line went silent for a moment, and it sounded like Amanda was whispering in the background. Cameron whispered back, but his mouth was still close to the phone so Blair could hear everything he said.

“You ask him,” Cameron said. A pause while Amanda responded. “Because you’re the one who wants to know so bad.” Another pause. “Okay, then maybe she’s the one who should be talking to Blair.”

Blair cleared his throat loudly, and Cameron stopped talking. “You know you’re whispering straight into the phone, right?”

“Oh.”

When Cameron didn’t say anything else, Blair prompted him. “Who’s going to be the one who tells me what’s going on—you, Amanda, or this mysterious third person we’ll refer to as ‘she’?”

Amanda’s voice came over loud and clear. “I’ll talk to him.” There was a thumping sound, like maybe she was fighting for control of the phone. When she started speaking again, her breaths were heavy. “Why won’t Sandra tell me where you were tonight? You didn’t show for dinner or the dance, and yet no one is talking about it.” She lowered her voice, like she didn’t want Cameron to hear, even though Blair was sure he was right next to her. “Was it that bad?”

If Amanda only knew.

Blair ran a hand through his hair and released a long breath, thinking of how amazing Sandra had looked in that dress. And somehow when she’d added the rock-climbing harness to the ensemble, it had only served to make her look more beautiful.

But that wasn’t what had made the night so great. When she had suggested they go get pizza instead of stay at the fancy restaurant, it had solidified that she was different than any girl Blair had ever dated. Even though he’d been so nervous he’d thought he was losing his mind, she had put him at ease.

And then when she’d wanted to completely skip the dance to go rock climbing? Well, the kiss had summed up pretty well how he felt about her.

Oh, that kiss.

There was no way Blair would be able to fall asleep with that memory playing on repeat. He still felt the way her lips had fit so perfectly with his, even as he and Sandra were gliding down through the air. It was the type of thing that only happened in movies.

But this was real life, baby. Every second of it.

Blair felt the sudden urge to jump in the car, just so he could drive over to Sandra’s house and tell her good night. Again. When he’d dropped her off after the climbing gym, they’d said goodnight four or five times. She hadn’t seemed like she wanted to go inside, and he certainly hadn’t been anxious to leave.

But then he’d noticed her parents watching them from an upstairs window, smiling.

That had made leaving easier.

“Now you’re making me nervous,” Amanda said, interrupting his thoughts.

“I didn’t—”

Amanda spoke again, not registering that he’d started to speak—and had been about to tell her everything. Okay, not everything, but some things. “I thought for sure you two would have a good time, but I suppose I’m to blame for this. I never was good at reading people.”

“That’s true,” Cameron piped up, and Blair heard an oof, like Amanda had elbowed him.

Blair smiled and propped his pillow against the wall, leaning against it. “Are you two done fighting, or are you going to let me talk?”

Silence.

“Well, talk!” Amanda said, excitement lacing her words.

Okay. His mind was now blank—an unused whiteboard—and he had no idea what to say.

It felt wrong to talk about how he had loved every minute he’d spent with Sandra and how the date had taken things to a new level he’d never been to before. Blair had liked other girls, but it had always been a shallow physical attraction. He’d never been attracted to someone’s mind before.

But Sandra was one of the most interesting people he’d ever met, and he didn’t think he’d ever get enough. She occupied his every thought, and he was counting down the moments until he’d be able to see her again.

Unfortunately it was the weekend, and she wasn’t attending school anymore, so that meant it would be another thirty-eight hours and seventeen minutes until he’d see her. Give or take a minute or two, depending on how long it took him to get out of swim practice and to the library.

Not that he was counting.

“It wasn’t awful,” Blair said, throwing as much indifference as he could manage into his tone.

“It wasn’t awful?” Amanda repeated, her dismay clear. “I’ll have you know that Sandra is the best thing that ever happened to you.” Her voice rose an octave. “And if that’s all you can say about your date, then you don’t deserve her.”

Blair groaned and rubbed his forehead. This was still so new, and he supposed he should have expected to be grilled by Cameron and Amanda, but he hadn’t expected it this soon. It was past one in the morning and he was tired—he hadn’t had the chance to process what all of this meant. He didn’t know if he and Sandra were now dating or if this was a one-time thing. Blair needed time to figure stuff out. Preferably with Sandra. Alone. Without well-meaning but nosy friends.

“Look, I’m sorry, I just need to sleep on it. Can you ask me about it tomorrow?”

“You need to sleep on it?”

The sounds of scuffling could be heard on the other end of the line.

“Sorry, Blair,” Cameron called, but it was distant, like he had lost the fight for the phone.

“Fine. You aren’t sure how you feel about things.” Amanda was back. “But can you answer one thing for me?”

Blair squeezed his eyes tight. He just wanted to go to bed. “Okay.”

“What went wrong?”

He didn’t hesitate this time. “Nothing. It was perfect.” He then hit the icon to end the call.

* * * *

Blair stood outside the library and adjusted his backpack so he could scratch his neck. There wouldn’t be the excuse of a school project today. He wouldn’t be watching Sandra from afar. He was visiting the girl he liked, and she’d know she was the only reason he was there. This was the real deal.

It took another five minutes, but Blair finally summoned the courage to walk inside. He paused in the entryway, scanning the small library. No one was around, not even the librarian, who usually remained perched behind the counter.

Blair released a sigh of relief. It was like the feeling when he was forced to call someone and then lucked out by getting their voicemail and he could just leave a message instead of having to actually talk to them.

Except, this was nothing like leaving someone a voicemail. Yeah, the thought of talking to Sandra still scared Blair out of his mind. But he also longed to see her and the way her eyes lit up when she laughed, and the smirk she’d throw his way when she was teasing him.

Blair decided to settle in at a small table that was visible from most of the library; that way, she could be the one to approach him. He placed his backpack down and fished out a book to read while he waited. He was supposed to read Wuthering Heights next week for his English class. That might impress Sandra if she caught him reading it.

Then he realized who he was talking about. It would have impressed one of his ex-girlfriends; he’d done something similar with Pride and Prejudice a few months before. But Sandra didn’t strike him as a Jane Austen or Emily Bronte fan.

Blair slipped the book back into his bag and pulled out Frankenstein instead. That was better.

He read the same page three times before he realized he wasn’t going to get very far. Blair had no idea what he’d even read because his mind was too focused on Sandra—where she was, if that creaking sound he’d heard was her cart, and how long he should wait before looking for her. He hadn’t wanted to appear desperate, but if she didn’t show up soon, he might have to take that risk.

Unless…

Well, shoot.

The thought that Sandra might not even be at the library hadn’t occurred to him until just then. Maybe she didn’t work on Mondays. Sandra had always been at the library when he’d visited before, but he doubted she worked every day.

He should have texted first.

Blair stared at the book he still held. He felt ridiculous now, sitting in a nearly empty library, pretending to read a book, but unable to comprehend a single word because of a girl who had turned his life upside down. He had just replaced the bookmark when Sandra startled him by collapsing into the seat next to him.

“Trying to impress me?” she asked, picking up his book and looking at the cover. She nodded appreciatively. “It worked.”

Heat traveled into his cheeks. He now realized he hadn’t wanted to impress her—at least not this way. “I tried to read it but got stuck on page two.”

Sandra’s eyebrows popped up in surprise, and she laughed. “Really? I couldn’t put it down.”

“Yup. I’m sure it’s a great book, and I’ll have to read it for real sometime, but tonight I had something else on my mind.” He paused and corrected himself. “Someone.”

Sandra scooted her seat closer to him and whispered conspiratorially, “Do tell.”

Oh man, did she have any idea what she did to him? Her close proximity was making his heart jump in an unnatural rhythm. And was she wearing perfume? He hadn’t ever noticed it before, but maybe he hadn’t been paying as close attention. Blair didn’t know what scent it was, but it made him want to take her into the back room and continue their kiss from Saturday evening.

He cleared his throat, hoping his thoughts weren’t coming across loud and clear. “Well, you see…there’s this girl.”

Sandra leaned in even closer and grinned. “Yeah? Is she pretty?”

Blair swallowed hard. “Gorgeous.”

“Funny?”

“Hilarious.”

Sandra was now so close, Blair would only have to shift his weight to be able to kiss her. But then she surprised him by leaning back. “She sounds lame.”

Blair blinked. “Huh?”

“This girl you’ve been thinking about. Gorgeous and funny? Please.” She gave an exaggerated eye roll. “I’m so much better.”

He wasn’t sure how to react until Sandra snorted, laughter rolling off her. Blair smiled and shook his head. Just when he thought he was getting a handle on Sandra, she’d do something else to catch him off guard.

He loved it.

Sandra leaned in again, her eyes now gleaming with a mischievous glint. “So, tell me more about this girl. Is she a good kisser?”

“I’d like to know too,” Mrs. Klemin said, taking a seat across from them at the table. She wasn’t wearing her usual stern stare, but instead, looked like she couldn’t wait to get in on the gossip.

Blair jumped back in his seat, his gaze bouncing wildly between Sandra and the librarian. He knew he was blushing furiously, but Sandra didn’t even look flustered. In fact, she looked like she thought the librarian’s sudden appearance was hilarious. “I…wouldn’t know,” Blair said, standing up and shoving Frankenstein into his backpack.

“Oh, come now, you don’t have to leave,” Mrs. Klemin said, getting to her feet. “I just wanted to meet the boy Sandra has been going on about today.”

This time Sandra did blush, pink tinging her cheeks. Apparently this was information she hadn’t wanted the librarian to share.

Blair grinned. “It looks like you and I have some things to talk about while Sandra shelves books.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Sandra said, standing up to join Blair.

The librarian walked past Blair and whispered loudly, “Meet me in my office in ten minutes. I’ll bring the toffee.”

Sandra had obviously overheard and grabbed him by the arm. “He was just leaving. You wouldn’t want to distract him from his homework.”

Mrs. Klemin laughed. “Please. That boy hasn’t done a thing except look for you since he got here. It’s not me who’s been distracting him.”

Blair allowed Sandra to drag him out the front door as he looked back and waved to Mrs. Klemin. “We’ll catch up next time,” he called.

“I’m thinking you need to be banned,” Sandra said, though he could tell she was fighting back a smile.

“You wouldn’t do that,” he said.

She let go of his arm and stopped just outside the doors. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.” She learned in toward him. “But you do make focusing on my job impossible.”

Blair stepped in close. “How long did you know I was there?”

“Since you walked in.”

Blair cocked an eyebrow. Only a few inches separated them now. “And you left me sitting there all that time?”

Sandra didn’t respond, but instead closed the gap between them. Blair’s palms immediately grew damp with nervous expectation, but she bypassed his lips and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “Why don’t you meet me at Twisters after I get off? I can be there by seven-fifteen.”

“Count me in.” As soon as he said it, he knew it had come out too quickly—too desperate. But that was what he was—desperate to see Sandra, to spend as much time as he could with her. He’d go anywhere at any time she asked.

Sandra gave him a half-smile. “See you then.”

As Blair walked toward his car, he noticed Sandra staring after him. She didn’t go back inside until he was already backing out of the parking stall. Blair was unsure where he’d spend the next couple of hours until he met up with Sandra and figured he might head to Cameron’s for a bit. He had just shifted into drive when his phone abruptly erupted into song, and he slammed his foot on the brake. His mom’s face flashed across the screen, and he pulled back into his parking stall.

One of their family rules was that if his mom called, he answered. It didn’t matter where he was or who he was with, he was expected to answer his mother’s phone calls. Otherwise she’d assume he was half-dead on the side of the road and call the cops. Blair knew this from experience—when the cops had found him, he’d been making out with his girlfriend at the park.

The trauma of being interrupted by two police officers with bright flashlights had been too much for the poor girl. She’d broken up with Blair that night, saying his mother was insane. That was partially true, but he’d felt the need to defend his mom; he was allowed to say she was crazy, but no one else was allowed to.

That hadn’t gone over well.

Blair managed to answer the phone before it went to voicemail. “What’s up, Mom?”

“Who are you with right now?”

Looked like they were skipping the pleasantries.

“I’m alone, just leaving the library.”

“We need to talk.”

Oh, boy. This sounded serious. He glanced at the clock on his dashboard. He had plenty of time.

“O-kay. What’s going on?”

His mom’s breathing was the only thing he could hear over the line for a moment. “I know about Sandra.”