puts his book aside and sits up straighter. “Hi, honey. Have fun at the bonfire?”
I nod, feeling my cheeks flush as my mind races anxiously. From this vantage point, Uncle Mark couldn’t have seen Blake kiss me on the doorstep … right? And so what if he did? Is it a crime to kiss a guy on the doorstep, even after knowing him only a week? Still, it seems so … frivolous. My parents just died, for crying out loud. His girlfriend just died. Christ!
“I’m glad you’re making friends,” Uncle Mark says, seeming to intuit my thoughts. “It’s what your mom and dad would want.”
Would they? Would they be okay with my kissing a guy I barely know? Especially a guy who’s so … I dunno … complicated? Or are our mutual tragedies the ingredients that are somehow drawing us together, that make it right for us to be together? I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know … It’s just that nothing feels quite right anymore. Everything seems somehow … off.
Quit overthinking, I snap to myself.
“You know, your parents met in high school,” Uncle Mark says.
I nod and settle into a chair. “I know. Partners in the frog-dissecting lab.”
“The formaldehyde fumes must have jumbled your mom’s brains,” Uncle Mark teases. “Otherwise, your dad wouldn’t have stood a chance. She was so pretty. Just like you.”
I smile, staring at my lap.
“And she was so smart,” Uncle Mark continues. “Always way more mature than the other girls. She just had kind of this way about her … very confident and self-assured, even though she never seemed snobbish or anything. She just kinda … knew who she was and felt really comfortable with herself. You don’t see that every day in a teenager.”
I nod wistfully.
“Again,” Uncle Mark said, pitching forward in his seat, “just like you.”
I can’t meet his eyes. “That’s not like me at all,” I say softly.
“It is, honey,” he insists earnestly. “You are the most together girl I know … even after what you’ve been through.”
Then why do I feel so confused? I ask myself. Why can’t I get my bearings?
I just can’t quite wrap my head around how I feel about Blake.
And I can’t get Garrett’s expression out of my head.
Seven
“That was the craziest thing I’ve ever seen.” Melanie taps her straw idly. “I mean, I knew Natalie was screwy, but— ”
Blake signals for the waitress. “Coke refill, please?” The waitress nods and grabs his empty glass, then heads toward the back of the restaurant with it.
“I knew she had a crush on you, but who knew she was, like, psycho?”
I roll a bit of paper from my straw between my fingers and bite my bottom lip. Granted, Natalie’s meltdown last night was legendary, but I wish Melanie would change the subject. Can’t the four of us just have a fun, relaxing evening? Maybe talk about the movie we just saw?
“Hey, did any of the rest of you notice the preview for the horror movie during the—”
“And what’s really weird,” Melanie says to Blake, “is that she acts like the two of you have some kind of a past. Like she was your girlfriend or something.”
Blake snorts. “In her dreams.”
My heart sinks a little. I’m not about to start a fan club for Natalie, and I totally understand Blake’s bitterness about the way she acted, but she’s clearly a troubled, insecure girl. What’s the point in taking potshots?
“She is delusional,” Melanie agrees, the word rolling on her tongue.
“A total wacko,” Blake says, smiling at the waitress as she returns with a filled glass.
“Please,” Jamie mutters under his breath.
Blake levels a steady gaze at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jamie’s eyes skitter away, but then he meets Blake’s gaze. “It means don’t act like you don’t love the attention,” he says, jerking his head to toss his blonde hair from his face.
Blake’s eyes narrow. “Love the attention? Love a girl coming up and throwing a tragedy in my face?”
“She wasn’t throwing it in your face,” Jamie corrects him, his voice unsettlingly soft. “She was throwing it in our faces.”
“So creepy that Cara’s body was never found … ” Melanie muses, more to herself than anyone else.
Jamie’s eyes fall, and Melanie finally notices the tension. She touches Jamie’s arm. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I know this is a terrible memory to dredge up.” She looks at Blake. “I’m really sorry.”
The moment hangs in the air, then Melanie asks Blake, “So … how long did you two date?”
Blake